FOREST  AND  STREAM  SERIES. 


JOE  WAYRING  AT  HOME; 


OR  THE 


ADVENTURES  OF  A  FLY-ROD, 


BY  HARRY  CASTLEMON, 

AUTHOR  OF  "GUNBOAT  SERIES,"  "ROCKY  MOUNTAIN  SERIES,' 
"  SPORTSMAN  CLUB  SERIES,"  ETC. 


THE  JOHN  C.  WINSTON  CO., 

PHILADELPHIA, 
CHICAGO,  TORONTO. 


FAMOUS  CASTLEMON  BOOKS. 


GUNBOAT  SERIES.    By  HARRY  CASTLEMON.    6  vols.    12mo. 

FRANK  THE  YOUNG  NATURALIST.  FRANK  ON  A  GUNBOAT. 

FRANK  IN  THE  WOODS.  FRANK  BEFORE  VICKSBURG. 

FRANK  ON  THE  LOWER  MISSISSIPPI.         FRANK  ON  THE  PRAIRIE. 

ROCKY  MOUNTAIN   SERIES.     By  HARRY   CASTLEMON.     3  vols.    12mo. 

Cloth. 

FRANK  AMONG  THE  RANCHEROS.        FRANK  AT  DON  CARLOS'  RANCH. 
FRANK  IN  THE  MOUNTAINS. 

SPORTSMAN'S  CLUB  SERIES.    By  HARRY  CASTLEMON.    3  vols.   12mo. 

Cloth. 

THK  SPORTSMAN'S  CLUB  IN  THE  SADDLE. 
THE  SPORTSMAN'S  CLUB  AFLOAT. 
THE  SPORTSMAN'S  CLUB  AMONG  THE  TRAPPERS. 

FRANK    NELSON    SERIES.     By   HAKRY  CASTLEMON.     3  vols.     12nio. 

Cloth. 
SNOWED  UP.         FRANK  IN  THE  FORECASTLE.         THE  BOY  TRADERS. 

BOY  TRAPPER  SERIES.    By  HARRY  CASTLEMON.    3  vols.    12mo.   Cloth. 
THE  BURIED  TREASURE.      THE  BOY  TRAPPER.      THE  MAIL-CARRIER. 

ROUGHING  IT  SERIES.    By  HARRY  CA.STLEMON.    3  vols.    12mo.    Cloth. 
GEORGE  IN  CAMP.      GEORGE  AT  THE  WHEEL.     GEORGE  AT  THE  FORT. 

ROD  AND  GUN  SERIES.    By  HARRY  CASTLEMON.   3  vols.    12mo.    Cloth. 
DON  GORDON'S  SHOOTING  Box.  ROD  AND  GUN  CLUB. 

THE  YOUNG  WILD  FOWLERS. 

GO-AHEAD  SERIES.    By  HARRY  CASTLEMON.    3  vols.    12mo.    Cloth. 
TOM  NEWCOMBE.  GO-AHEAD.  No  Moss. 

FOREST  AND  STREAM  SERIES.     By  HARRY  CASTLEMON.  3  vols.  12mo. 
Cloth. 

JOE  WAYRING.  SNAGGED  AND  SUNK.  STEEL  HORSE. 

WAR  SERIES.    By  HARRY  CASTLEMON.    5  vols.    12mo.    Cloth. 
TRUE  TO  HIS  COLORS.  RODNEY  THE  PARTISAN. 

RODNEY  THE  OVERSEER.  MARCY  THE  BLOCKADE-RUNNER. 

MARCY  THE  REFUGEE. 

Other  Volumes  in  Preparation. 


COPYRIGHT,  1886,  BY  PORTER  &  COATKS. 


ANNEX 

PZ 

7 


JOE  WAYRING  AT  HOME 

OR 

THE  STOEY  OF  A  FLY-ROD. 


CHAPTER  I. 

IN  WHICH  I  INTRODUCE  MYSELF. 

I  AM  called  "  Old  Durability";  but  for 
fear  my  name  may  prove  misleading,  and 
cause  those  of  my  readers  who  are  not 
acquainted  with  me  to  fall  into  the  error  of 
supposing  that  I  am  a  very  aged  article,  I 
desire  to  say,  at  the  outset,  that  I  am  only  four 
years  old,  and  that  I  have  been  in  active 
service  just  sixteen  months.  During  that  time 
I  have  seen  a  world  of  excitement  and  advent- 
ure, and  have  performed  some  exploits  of 
which  any  fly-rod  might  be  justly  proud.  I 
have  hooked,  at  one  cast,  and  successfully 
landed,  two  black  bass,  weighing  together 
eight  and  a  quarter  pounds  ;  I  have  so  often 
been  dumped  in  the  cold  waters  of  mountain 


6  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

lakes  and  streams  that  it  is  a  wonder  my  fer- 
rules were  not  rusted  out  long  ago  ;  I  have  been 
dragged  about  among  snags  and  lily-pads,  by 
enraged  trout,  pickerel  and  bass  ;  I  have  been 
stolen  from  my  lawful  owner,  been  kept  a  pris- 
oner by  boys  and  tramps  who  either  could  not 
or  would  not  take  care  of  me,  and  one  of  my 
joints  has  been  broken.  Of  course,  I  was  skill- 
fully patched  up,  but,  like  the  man  whose  arm 
has  been  fractured,  I  am  not  quite  as  good  as  I 
used  to  be,  and  am  reluctant  to  exert  all  my 
strength  for  fear  that  I  shall  break  again  in  the 
same  place.  I  can't  throw  a  fly  as  far  as  I 
could  when  I  took  my  finest  string  of  trout  in 
front  of  the  "sportsmen's  home"  at  Indian 
Lake,  and  when  I  am  called  upon  to  make  the 
attempt,  my  ferrules  groan  and  creak  as  if  they 
were  about  to  give  away  and  let  me  fall  to 
pieces.  For  this  my  master  laid  me  up  in 
ordinary  (that  is  what  sailors  say  of  a  war 
vessel  when  she  goes  out  of  commission,  and  is 
laid  up  in  port  to  remain  idle  there  until  her 
services  are  needed  again),  saying,  as  he  did  so, 
that  my  days  of  usefulness  were  over,  but  that 
he  would  keep  me  for  the  good  I  had  done. 


IN   WHICH   I   INTRODUCE   MYSELF.    *  7 

After  having  led  an  active  life  among  the 
hills,  lakes  and  forest  streams  almost  ever 
since  I  could  remember,  you  may  be  sure  that 
I  did  not  relish  treatment  of  this  sort.  After 
doing  my  level  best  for  my  master,  and  landing 
more  than  one  fish  for  him  that  he  ought  to 
have  lost  because  he  handled  me  so  awkwardly 
— after  going  with  him  through  some  of  the  most 
exciting  scenes  of  his  life,  and  submitting  to 
treatment  that  would  have  used  up  almost  any 
other  rod,  must  I  be  laid  upon  the  shelf  in  a 
dark  closet  and  left  to  my  gloomy  reflections, 
while  a  new  favorite  accompanied  my  master  to 
the  woods,  caught  the  trout  for  his  dinner, 
slept  under  his  blanket,  and  listened  to  the 
thrilling  and  amusing  stories  that  were  told 
around  the  camp-fire  ?  I  resolved  to  prevent  it, 
if  I  could  ;  so  when  my  master  took  me  out  of 
my  case  one  day  to  assist  him  in  catching  a 
muskalonge  he  had  seen  in  the  lake  back  of  his 
father's  house,  I  nerved  myself  to  do  valiant 
battle,  hoping  to  show  him  that  there  was 
plenty  of  good  hard  work  left  in  me,  if  he  only 
knew  how  to  bring  it  out. 

The  muskalonge,  which  was  lurking  in  the 


8  JOE   WAYRING    AT   HOME. 

edge  of  the  lily-pads  ready  to  pounce  upon  the 
first  unwary  fish  that  approached  his  lair,  took 
the  frog  that  was  on  the  hook  at  the  very  first 
cast,  and  then  began  the  hardest  struggle  of 
my  life.  My  rheumatic  joints  complained 
loudly  as  the  heavy  fish  darted  up  and  down 
the  lake,  and  then  dove  to  the  bottom  in  his 
mad  efforts  to  escape,  but  I  held  on  the  best  I 
knew  how  until  he  leaped  full  length  out  of  the 
water,  and  tried  to  shake  the  hook  from  his 
mouth  ;  then  I  was  ready  to  give  up  the  con- 
test. He  was  the  largest  fish  I  ever  saw. 

"Scotland's  a  burning!"  exclaimed  Joe. 
"Isn't  he  a  beauty?  If  this  old  rod  was  as 
good  as  he  used  to  be,  wouldn't  I  have  a  prize 
in  a  few  minutes  from  now  ?  " 

I  ought  to  have  told  you  before  that  my 
master's  name  is  Joe  Wayring  ;  and  a  right 
good  boy  he  is,  too,  as  you  will  find  before  my 
story  is  ended.  Nearly  all  the  young  fellows 
of  my  acquaintance,  and  I  know  some  of  the 
best  there  are  in  the  country,  have  some  favor- 
ite word  or  expression  which  always  rises  to 
their  lips  whenever  they  are  surprised,  excited 
or  angry,  and  the  words  I  have  just  quoted  are 


IN  WHICH  I  INTRODUCE  MYSELF.       9 

the  ones  Joe  always  used  under  such  circum- 
stances. No  matter  how  exasperated  he  was 
you  never  could  get  any  thing  stronger  out  of 
him. 

I  will  not  dwell  upon  the  particulars  of  that 
fight  (my  joints  ache  yet  whenever  I  think  of 
it),  for  I  set  out  to  talk  about  other  matters.  It 
will  be  enough  to  say  that  I  held  fast  to  the 
fish  until  he  became  exhausted  and  was  drawn 
through  the  lily-pads  to  the  bank ;  then  the 
gaff-hook  came  to  my  assistance,  and  he  was 
safely  landed.  He  was  a  monster.  I  afterward 
learned  that  he  weighed  a  trifle  over  nineteen 
pounds.  Wasn't  that  something  of  an  exploit 
for  an  eight  ounce  rod  who  had  been  threat- 
ened with  the  retired  list  on  account  of  sup- 
posed disability  ?  I  was  so  nearly  doubled  up 
by  the  long-continued  strain  that  had  been 
brought  to  bear  upon  me,  that  when  my  master 
threw  me  down  on  the  ground  while  he  gave  his 
prize  his  quietus  with  the  heavy  handle  of  the 
gaff-hook,  I  could  not  immediately  straighten 
out  again,  as  every  well-conditioned  rod  is 
expected  to  do  under  similar  circumstances. 

"  Why,  what  in  the  world  have  you   got 


10  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

there  ?  "  cried  Joe's  mother,  as  the  boy  entered 
the  kitchen,  carrying  me  in  one  hand  and  drag- 
ging the  fish  after  him  with  the  other.  She 
seemed  to  be  a  little  afraid  of  the  young  fisher- 
man's  prize,  and  that  was  hardly  to  be  won- 
dered at,  for  his  mouth  was  open,  and  it  was 
full  of  long,  sharp  teeth. 

"It's  the  biggest  muskalonge  that  was  ever 
caught  in  this  lake,"  replied  Joe,  as  he  laid  me 
down  upon  a  chair  and  took  both  hands  to 
deposit  his  fish  upon  the  table.  "Didn't  he 
fight,  though?  I  say,  Uncle  Joe,"  he  added, 
addressing  himself  to  a  dignified  gentleman  in 
spectacles,  who  just  then  came  into  the 
room  with  the  morning's  paper  in  his  hand, 
"I  shall  not  need  that  new  split  bamboo  you 
promised  me  for  my  birthday,  though  I  thank 
you  for  your  kind  offer,  all  the  same.  This  old 
rod  is  good  for  at  least  one  more  summer  on 
Indian  Lake.  There  is  plenty  of  back-bone  left 
in  him  yet." 

Uncle  Joe  was  a  rich  old  bachelor  and  very 
fond  of  his  namesake,  Joe  Wayring,  on  whom 
he  lavished  all  the  affection  he  would  have 
given  to  his  own  children,  if  he  had  had  any. 


IN   WHICH   I   INTRODUCE   MYSELF.  11 

He  was  an  enthusiastic  angler,  a  skillful  and 
untiring  bear  and  deer  hunter,  and  he  generally 
timed  his  trips  to  the  woods  and  mountains  so 
that  Joe  and  some  of  his  particular  friends 
could  go  with  him. 

"He  is  the  most  durable  rod  I  ever  saw," 
added  my  master. 

"Well,  then,  call  him  'Old  Durability'," 
suggested  Uncle  Joe. 

The  boy  said  he  thought  that  name  would 
just  suit  me,  and  from  that  day  to  this  I  have 
been  known  by  every  one  who  is  acquainted 
with  me  as  "Old  Durability". 

Having  introduced  myself ,  because  there  was 
no  one  to  perform  the  ceremony  for  me,  and 
told  you  how  I  came  by  my  cognomen,  I  will 
now  go  back  and  relate  how  I  made  the 
acquaintance  of  my  master,  Joe  Wayring. 

If  you  will  review  your  own  life,  boy  reader, 
you  may  be  able  to  find  in  it  some  incident, 
which  happened,  perhaps,  long  before  you 
were  out  of  pinafores,  and  which  you  remember 
perfectly,  while  all  your  life  previous  to  the 
occurrence  of  that  particular  incident  is  a  blank 
to  you.  Just  so  it  was  in  my  own  experience. 


12  JOE  WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

When  I  first  came  to  my  senses,  I  found  myself 
snugly  tied  up  in  my  case  and  standing  in  a 
corner,  looking  through  a  glass  door  into  a 
large  store  in  which  guns  of  all  makes  and  fish- 
ing tackle  of  all  kinds  were  kept  for  sale.  At  first 
I  was  greatly  bewildered.  I  felt,  if  I  may  judge 
from  what  I  have  seen  during  my  trips  to  the 
woods,  like  a  boy  who  has  just  awakened  from 
a  sound  sleep  ;  but  after  a  while  my  wits  came 
to  me,  and  then  I  found  that  I  was  not  alone  in 
the  show-case.  There  were  a  dozen  or  two  fly 
and  bait  rods  standing  in  the  corner  beside  me, 
and  a  little  further  down,  looking  toward  the 
back  end  of  the  store,  were  single  and  double- 
barreled  shot-guns,  muzzle  and  breech -loading 
rifles,  game-bags,  creels,  hunting  knives,  dog- 
whips,  and  almost  every  thing  else  that  a  sports- 
man is  supposed  to  need.  In  the  show-case, 
which  rested  on  the  long  counter  in  front  of 
me,  were  revolvers,  pen-knives,  lines,  leaders, 
flies  and  ordinary  fish-hooks  without  number  ; 
and  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  store  was  an 
array  of  barrels  containing  glass  balls,  traps  for 
throwing  those  balls,  bicycles,  tricycles,  rowing 
and  lifting  machines — in  fact,  I  saw  so  many 


IN   WHICH   I   INTRODUCE   MYSELF.  13 

things  that  I  did  not  then  know  the  name  or 
use  of,  that  I  became  confused  while  I  looked 
at  them. 

' '  Hallo,  there  !  Have  you  waked  up  at  last  ? ' ' 
cried  a  voice,  breaking  in  upon  my  meditations. 

A  short  investigation  showed  that  the  voice 
came  from  the  case  that  stood  next  on  my 
right.  I  did  not  know,  of  course,  what  sort  of 
a  rod  he  was,  or  whether  or  not  he  would  prove 
to  be  an  agreeable  acquaintance  ;  but  wishing 
to  be  civil,  I  replied  that  I  had  waked  up,  and 
that,  if  he  could  tell  me,  I  should  be  glad  to 
know  where  I  was  and  how  I  came  there. 

u  Why,  you  are  in  a  one-horse  country  town, 
a  thousand  miles  from  nowhere,  and  you  have 
always  been  here,"  was  the  answer,  given  as  I 
thought  in  a  tone  of  contempt.  ' '  I  have  trav- 
eled. I  came  all  the  way  from  New  York." 

"  Who  are  you  ?  "  I  ventured  to  ask  ;  for  my 
new  acquaintance  spoke  in  so  dignified  and 
lofty  a  tone,  that  I  stood  somewhat  in  awe  of 
him. 

"  I  am  a  split  bamboo,"  said  he  ;  and  then  I 
saw  very  clearly  that  he  was  disposed  tc  throw 
on  airs,  and  to  lord  it  over  those  who  were  not 


14  JOE    WAYRING    AT   HOME. 

as  fortunate  as  himself.  "  I  am  a  gentleman's 
rod,  and  it  takes  the  ducats  to  buy  me.  I  am 
worth  forty-five  dollars  ;  while  I  see  by  the 
card  tied  to  your  case,  that  you  are  valued  at 
only  six  and  a  half." 

Not  being  quick  at  figures  at  this  early  per- 
iod of  my  life,  I  could  not  tell  just  how  much 
difference  there  was  between  forty-five  dollars 
and  six  and  a  half,  but  I  knew  by  the  way  the 
bamboo  spoke,  that  the  gulf  that  separated 
him  from  me  was  a  wide  one.  I  have  learned 
some  things  since  then.  I  know  now  that  the 
qualities  of  a  ily-rod  do  not  depend  upon  the 
varnish  that  is  put  on  the  outside  of  him,  any 
more  than  a  boy's  qualities  of  mind  and  heart 
depend  upon  the  clothes  he  wears.  The  stuff 
he  is  made  of  and  the  company  he  keeps  have 
much  to  do  with  the  record  he  makes  in  the 
world.  While  I  was  turning  the  matter  over 
in  my  mind,  somebody  who  had  been  listening 
to  our  conversation,  suddenly  broke  in  with  : 

' '  You  are  neither  one  of  you  worth  the 
money  you  cost." 

I  looked  around  to  see  who  the  new  speaker 
was,  and  presently  discovered  him  in  the  person 


IN   WHICH   I   INTRODUCE   MYSELF.  15 

of  a  handsome  bird  gun,  who  rested  upon  a  pair 
of  deer' s  antlers  a  short  distance  away. 

"  You  can't  bring  a  squirrel  out  of  the  top  of 
the  tallest  hickory  in  the  woods,  or  stop  a 
woodcock  or  a  grouse  on  the  wing,  but  I  can," 
continued  the  double-barrel. 

"  I  can  catch  a  trout,  if  I  have  some  one  to 
back  me  who  understands  his  business,  and 
that's  more  than  you  can  do,"  retorted  the 
bamboo,  spitefully.  "  I  can  throw  a  line  sixty 
or  seventy  feet ;  I  heard  the  proprietor  of  this 
store  say  so." 

"And  I  can  throw  shot  sixty  or  seventy 
yards,  which  is  three  times  as  far  as  you  can 
throw  a  line,"  shouted  the  double-barrel. 
"You  seem  to  think  yourself  of  some  conse- 
quence because  you  came  from  New  York.  I 
came  all  the  way  from  England,  and  that  is  on 
the  other  side  of  the  ocean." 

"So  you  are  an  assisted  immigrant,  are 
you  \ "  cried  the  bamboo,  in  tones  indicative  of 
the  greatest  contempt.  "Well,  that's  all  I 
care  to  know  about  you." 

The  disputants  grew  more  and  more  in 
earnest  the  longer  they  talked,  and  pretty  soon 


16  JOE   WAYRING    AT   HOME. 

there  were  some  hard  words  used.  I  took  no 
part  in  the  controversy,  for  I  felt  rather  bash- 
ful in  the  presence  of  those  who  had  seen  so 
much  more  of  the  world  than  I  had,  and  who 
were  worth  so  much  more  money,  and  besides 
I  could  not  see  what  there  was  to  quarrel  about. 
My  sympathies  were  with  the  bamboo,  arrogant 
as  he  had  showed  himself  to  be,  because  he  was 
an  American  like  myself  ;  but  still  the  English 
fowling-piece,  "assisted  immigrant"  though 
he  was,  had  a  right  to  live  in  this  country  so 
long  as  he  behaved  himself,  and  as  he  was  a 
showy  fellow,  I  had  no  doubt  that  he  would  get 
out  of  the  store  before  either  the  bamboo  or 
myself.  And  so  he  did.  While  the  dispute 
was  at  its  height  the  door  opened  and  a  young 
man  came  in — a  tall  young  man,  with  very  thin 
legs,  peaked  shoes,  gold  eye-glasses  and  a 
downy  upper  lip.  He  walked  with  a  mincing 
step  and  drawled  out  his  words  when  he  talked. 

"  A  dude !  "  whispered  the  bamboo. 

Before  I  could  ask  what  a  "dude"  was,  the 
proprietor  came  up,  and  the  talking  was  for  a 
moment  hushed.  Being  impatient  to  be 
released  from  the  show-case  so  that  we  could 


IN  WHICH  I  INTRODUCE  MYSELF.     17 

see  what  was  going  on  in  the  great  world  out- 
side, each  one  of  us  cherished  the  secret  hope 
that  we  might  find  favor  in  the  eyes  of  the  pros- 
pective purchaser.  We  were  so  inexperienced 
and  foolish  that  we  didn't  care  much  who 
bought  us,  so  long  as  we  got  out. 

"  I — aw !  I  want  to  look  at  a  nice  light  bird 
gun,"  said  the  young  man;  "something  you 
can  recommend  for  woodcock  and  the  like, 
don't  yer  know?" 

"Why,  that's  a  countryman  of  mine,"  ex- 
claimed the  double-barrel,  who  seemed  to  be 
highly  excited  by  the  discovery. 

The  bamboo  hastened  to  assure  me  that  he 
wasn't — that  he  was  an  American  trying  to  ape 
English  ways. 

"  Do  you  want  a  hammerless  ? "  asked  the 
proprietor. 

"  I — aw!  They  come  pretty 'igh,  don't  they?" 

' '  Not  necessarily.  Here' s  one  worth  a  hundred 
and  twenty-five  dollars,"  replied  the  store- 
keeper ;  and  as  he  spoke,  he  opened  the  show- 
case and  took  from  it  a  double-barrel  who  was  so 
very  plain  in  appearance,  that  I  had  not  before 
taken  more  than  a  passing  glance  at  him.  "  I 


18  JOE   WAYRINO   AT    HOME. 

judge  from  your  speech  that  you  are  an  En- 
glishman, and  if  you  are,  you  of  course  know 
more  about  this  make  of  guns  than  I  can  tell 
you.  It  is  a  Greener." 

The  young  man  seemed  pleased  to  know  that 
he  had  succeeded  in  making  the  proprietor  be- 
lieve that  he  was  not  an  American,  but  he  did 
not  seem  to  appreciate  the  gun,  nor  did  he 
handle  it  as  if  he  were  accustomed  to  the  use 
of  lire-arms.  He  hardly  knew  how  to  bring  it 
to  his  face  properly. 

"I — aw!  Hit's  wery  fine,  no  doubt,"  said 
he,  after  he  had  made  an  awkward  pretense  of 
examining  the  gun,  "  but  I — aw  !  I  want  some- 
thing a  little  more  showy  and  not  quite  so 
'igh-priced,  don't  yer  know  ?  Something  that 
I  can  take  pride  in  exhibiting  to  my  'unting 
friends,  don't  yer  know  ?  " 

"  We  have  guns  that  are  more  showy  than 
this,  but  they  are  cheap  affairs,  and  we  don't 
recommend  them.  How  would  this  one  suit 
you?"  said  the  proprietor;  and  as  he  spoke, 
he  opened  another  door  in  the  show-case,  and 
took  my  bragging  friend  down  from  his  place 
on  the  antlers. 


IN  WHICH  I  INTRODUCE  MYSELF.      19 

It  may  have  been  all  imagination  on  my  part, 
but  I  would  have  been  willing  to  affirm  that  his 
nickel-plated  ornaments  grew  a  shade  dimmer 
as  he  was  taken  out  of  the  case,  and  I  am  of  the 
same  opinion  still.  By  his  boasting  he  had  led 
us  all  to  believe  that  he  was  worth  at  least  two 
or  three  hundred  dollars  ;  and  you  can  imagine 
how  surprised  we  were  when  we  learned  that 
he  was  valued  at  a  very  small  fraction  of  that 
sum. 

"  Aw  !  That  looks  more  like  a  gun,"  said  the 
customsr.  ""That's  a  piece,  don't  yer  know, 
that  a  fellah  can  show  to  his  friends.  Hit' 11 
shoot,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  Oil,  yes,  it  will  shoot,  but  it  will  not  do  as 
clean  work  as  the  one  I  just  showed  you." 

"  Hi' 11  take  the  risk.     'Ow  much  for  'im?" 

"Twenty-live  dollars;  and  that  includes  a 
trunk-shaped  case,  loading-tools,  wiping-rod 
anil  fifty  brass-shells." 

The  young  man  handed  over  the  money  and 
went  out,  after  requesting  that  his  purchase 
might  be  sent  up  to  the  Lambert  House  at 
once,  as  he  wished  to  start  for  the  woods  on 
the  following  day.  As  soon  as  the  door  was 


20  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

closed  behind  him,  the  proprietor  called  out  to 
the  porter : 

"  Oh,  Rube !  Come  here  and  take  this  Brum- 
magem shooting-iron  up  to  the  hotel.  Thank 
goodness  it  is  the  last  one  we  have  in  stock, 
and  I'll  never  buy  another." 

"  I  wonder  how  that  boastful  bird  gun  feels 
now,"  whispered  the  bamboo.  "  His  pride  had 
to  take  a  tumble,  didn't  it  ?  There's  no  Brum- 
magem about  me,  I  can  tell  you." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by — by — '  The  word 
was  too  hard  for  me,  and  I  stumbled  over  it. 

"  By  Brummagem  2"  said  the  bamboo,  who 
felt  so  good  over  the  discomfiture  of  the  En- 
glish fowling-piece  that  he  was  disposed  to  be 
friendly  as  well  as  civil.  u  Why,  it's  some- 
thing that  is  fine  and  showy,  but  which  is  not 
in  reality  worth  any  thing.  A  Yankee  would 
say  that  that  double-barrel  was  a  '  shoddy ' 
article." 

"  I  feel  guilty  every  time  I  sell  one  of  those 
guns,"  continued  the  proprietor.  "They  are 
made  in  Birmingham,  England,  at  the  cost  of 
nine  dollars  apiece  by  the  dozen." 

"  That  dude  will  never  hurt  any  thing  with 


IN   WHICH   I   INTRODUCE   MYSELF.  21 

it,"  observed  the  porter,  who  had  taken  a  good 
look  at  the  customer  and  heard  all  that  passed 
between  him  and  his  employer. 

"I  hope  he  will  not  hurt  himself  with  it," 
answered  the  latter.  "  What  does  he  want  to 
go  into  the  woods  for?  He  doesn't  know  a 
woodcock  from  an  ostrich." 

"He  goes  because  it  is  fashionable,  I  sup- 
pose," said  Rube ;  and  I  afterward  found  out 
that  that  was  just  the  reason.  I  saw  him  in 
the  wilderness  a  few  weeks  later,  and  had  an 
opportunity  to  exchange  a  word  or  two  with 
the  Brummagem  breech-loader.  The  latter 
looked  decidedly  seedy.  He  was  covered  with 
rust,  his  locks  were  out  of  order,  and  he  had 
been  put  to  such  hard  service  that  every  joint 
in  his  make-up  was  loose.  The  second  time  I 
met  him  he  could  scarcely  talk  to  me,  because 
there  was  not  much  left  of  him  except  his 
stock.  His  ignorant  owner — but  we'll  wait 
until  we  come  to  that,  won't  we  ? 

The  next  customers  who  came  into  the  store 
were  an  elderly  gentleman  and  a  young  lady. 
I  certainly  thought  my  chance  for  freedom  had 
come,  for  when  the  gentleman  said  that  his 


22  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

daughter  wanted  to  look  at  a  fly-rod,  some- 
tiling  light  enough  to  be  managed  with  one 
hand,  and  strong  enough  to  land  a  perch  or 
rock-bass,  the  proprietor  pushed  open  the  door 
in  front  of  me  and  took  me  out. 

"Aha!"  exclaimed  the  bamboo.  "Your 
fate  is  to  be  the  companion  and  plaything  of  a 
little  girl,  who  will  probably  set  you  to  catch- 
ing sunfish  and  minnows,  and  throw  you  down 
in  the  mud  when  she  gets  through  with  you. 
I  know  that  I  am  destined  for  the  trout  streams, 
and  I  have  an  idea  that  I  shall  be  taken  to 
Canada  to  have  a  shy  at  the  lordly  salmon. 
Good-by  ;  but  I  am  sorry  for  you." 

I  did  not  thank  the  bamboo  for  his  words  of 
sympathy,  because  I  did  not  believe  they  were 
sincere.  I  thought  I  could  detect  a  hypocriti- 
cal twang  in  them  ;  but  before  I  could  tell  him 
so,  I  was  taken  out  of  my  case,  and  for  the 
first  time  given  an  opportunity  to  see  how  I 
looked. 

"  There  is  a  rod  I  can  recommend.  Lance- 
wood  throughout,  nickel-plated  ferrules  and 
reel-seat  and  artistically  wound  with  cane  and 
silk,"  said  the  proprietor,  glibly.  "I  will 


IN  WHICH  I  INTRODUCE  MYSELF.      23 

warrant  him  to  do  good  work,  and  if  the  lady 
breaks  him  she  will  not  be  much  out  of  pocket 
— only  six  dollars  and  a  half." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  want  a  cheap  thing  like  that," 
exclaimed  the  young  lady,  who  would  not  take 
a  second  look  at  me  after  she  heard  that  I  was 
worth  so  little  money.  "I  want  a  nice  rod." 

The  storekeeper  laid  me  on  the  show-case, 
and  brought  my  friend  the  split  bamboo  out 
for  exhibition.  He  was  a  splendid  looking  fel- 
low, and  I  did  not  wonder  that  the  young  lady 
went  into  ecstasies  over  him,  and  declared  at 
once  that  he  was  just  the  rod  she  had  long  been 
wishing  for.  Neither  could  I  resist  the  tempta- 
tion to  say  to  him,  as  he  was  put  back  into  his 
case  : 

"  What  do  you  think  now  of  your  chances 
of  going  among  the  trout  streams  and  of  taking 
a  shy  at  the  lordly  salmon !  Good-by ;  but  I 
am  sorry  for  you." 

The  bamboo  was  so  crest-fallen  that  he  could 
make  no  response.  He  was  carried  away  by 
his  new  owner,  and  I  did  not  see  him  again 
until  I  was  almost  ready  to  be  laid  upon  the 
shelf  in  my  master's  closet,  to  enjoy  a  long 


24  JOE'WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

winter's  rest  after  a  season  of  the  hardest  kind 
of  work.  The  pride  and  arrogance  were  all 
gone  out  01  him,  and  he  did  not  look  much  as 
he  did  when  he  left  the  store.  If  he  had  been 
a  man,  folks  would  have  called  him  a  tramp. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  HISTORIAN  OF  THE   WAYEING   FAMILY. 

THE  bamboo  having  been  disposed  of  I  was 
returned  to  the  show-case,  where  I  spent 
two  very  lonely  days.  The  rods  around  me 
were  worth  more  money  than  I  was,  and  feel- 
ing their  importance  they  would  scarcely  speak 
to  me,  even  to  answer  a  civil  question  ;  so  all  I 
could  do  was  to  hold  my  peace  and  listen  to 
their  conversation.  But  fate  had  decreed  that 
I  should  not  long  remain  a  captive.  One  after- 
noon there  came  into  the  store  a  gentleman  in 
gold  spectacles,  accompanied  by  two  bright 
boys  about  fifteen  years  of  age.  They  must 
have  been  well  known  to  the  proprietor,  for  he 
shook  their  hands  with  all  the  cordiality  which 
shopkeepers  know  how  to  assume  toward  their 
rich  patrons,  and  greeted  them  with  : 

"Ah,  colonel,  I  am  glad  to  see  you.     Well, 
Joseph,  have  you  come  after  that  rod?" 


26  JOE   WAY  KING   AT   HOME. 

"Yes,  sir,''  answered  one  of  the  boys,  a 
curly-headed,  blue-eyed  lad,  who  looked  so 
good-natured  and  jolly  that  I  took  a  great 
fancy  to  him  at  once.  ' '  You  remember  what 
I  told  you  the  last  time  I  was  here,  Mr.  Brown 
—that  I  want  something  light  and  strong  and 
inexpensive.  I  can't  afford  to  pay  a  high  price 
for  a  rod  that  I  may  break  at  the  very  first 
cast.  You  know  I  never  threw  a  fly  in  my  life. ' ' 

"Yes,  I  know  that,"  said  Mr.  Brown,  "and 
I  know,  too,  that  as  a  bait  fisher  you  have 
few  equals  and  no  superiors  among  boys  of 
your  age." 

"  I  thank  you  for  the  compliment,  but  I  am 
afraid  I  don't  deserve  it,"  said  the  blue-eyed 
boy,  modestly. 

"Oh,  yes,  you  do.  Now  here's  a  rod  that 
will  suit  you  exactly,"  answered  the  proprie- 
tor, pushing  open  the  show-case  and  laying 
hold  of  me.  "  He  weighs  only  eight  ounces, 
hangs  beautifully,  and  will  answer  your  pur- 
pose as  well  as  one  worth  five  times  the  money. 
Only  six  and  a  half,  and  that's  cheaper  than 
you  could  steal  him,  if  you  were  in  that  line  of 
business." 


HISTORIAN    OF   THE   WAYRING   FAMILY.      27 

"  What  do  you  say,  Uncle  Joe  ? "  asked  the 
boy  after  he.  and    his    companion,  whom    he    > 
addressed  as  Roy  Sheldon,  had  shaken  me  up 
and  down  in  the  air  until  it  was  a  wonder  to 
me  that  they  did  not  break  my  back. 

"  Since  Mr.  Brown  has  recommended  him, 
I  say  that  you  can't  do  better  than  to  take 
him,1'  was  the  reply,  and  that  settled  the  mat- 
ter. I  had  a  master  at  last,  and  a  good  one, 
too,  if  there  were  any  faith  to  be  put  in  appear- 
ances. I  took  him  for  a  restless,  uneasy  fellow 
who  would  not  let  me  rust  for  want  of  use,  and 
I  found  that  I  had  not  been  mistaken  in  my 
opinion  of  him. 

Joe,  as  I  shall  hereafter  call  him,  next  pur- 
chased, under  his  uncle's  supervision,  three 
long  water-proof  lines,  a  Loomis  automatic 
reel,  a  dozen  cream-colored  leaders  of  different 
lengths,  a  creel  who  afterward  became  my  con- 
stant companion,  and  a  fly-book  filled  with  all 
the  most  tempting  lures  known  to  anglers, 
such  as  coachmen,  white  millers,  red  and 
brown  hackles,  and  many  other  things  whose 
names  I  did  not  know.  With  these  under  his  arm 
and  me  on  his  shoulder  he  set  out  for  home 


28  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

accompanied  by  Roy  Sheldon,  Uncle  Joe  tak- 
ing leave  of  them  at  the  door,  saying  that  he 
was  going  to  the  post-office. 

"  I  wish  every  fellow  in  the  world  had  an 
uncle  like  that,'1  said  Joe,  as  he  turned  about 
and  waved  his  hand  to  the  gentleman  with  the 
gold  spectacles. 

"So  do  I,"  answered  Roy,  "excepting,  of 
course,  Tom  Bigden  and  his  crowd." 

"I  don't  except  even  them,"  said  Joe. 
"Tom  pulls  a  lovely  oar,  and  I  never  saw  a 
fellow  who  could  play  short  stop  or  train  a 
spaniel  like  him.  I  have  nothing  against  any 
of  them,  and  should  be  glad  to  be  friends  with 
them  if  they  would  let  me." 

"  But  haven't  you  seen  to  your  satisfaction 
that  they  won't  let  you?"  demanded  Roy, 
rather  sharply.  "They've  got  something 
against  you,  and  they'll  continue  to  make  you 
suffer  for  it ;  see  if  they  don't." 

I  wondered  what  it  was  that  any  one  could 
have  against  so  fine  a  young  fellow  as  my 
new  master  appeared  to  be,  and  it  was  not 
many  days  before  I  found  out.  Tom  Bigden 
and  his  followers  did  make  Joe  suffer,  but  it 


HISTORIAN   OF   THE   WAYKING   FAMILY.     29 

was  principally  through  his  friends,  that 
is,  through  his  sail-boat,  his  shell  in  which  he 
used  to  train  for  his  races,  his  canvas  canoe  that 
had  carried  him  safely  down  the  most  difficult 
rapids  in  Indian  River,  and  finally  through  me. 
In  fact,  I  became  a  regular  shuttle-cock  of  for- 
tune, and  was  so  roughly  knocked  about  from 
pillar  to  post,  that  it  is  a  wonder  to  me  that  I 
am  as  good  a  rod  as  I  am. 

After  a  few  minutes'  walk  along  a  quiet  street 
shaded  on  each  side  by  grand  old  trees,  Joe  and 
his  companion  turned  into  a  wide  carriage-way 
which  led  them  by  a  circuitous  route  through 
a  little  grove  of  evergreens  to  the  house  in  which 
Joe  lived — a  fine  brick  mansion,  with  stone 
facings,  a  carriage-porch  at  the  side  door,  and 
a  croquet  ground  and  lawn  tennis  court  in 
front.  Behind  the  house  the  grounds  sloped 
gently  down  to  the  shore  of  a  beautiful  lake, 
with  an  island  near  the  center,  and  with  banks 
on  each  side  that  were  thickly  wooded,  save 
where  the  trees  and  undergrowth  had  been 
cleared  away  to  make  room  for  the  cozy  sum- 
mer residences  of  the  visitors  who  came  there 
every  year.  For  Mount  Airy,  that  was  the 


30  JOE   WAY  RING   AT   HOME. 

name  of  the  village  in  which  Joe  Way-ring 
lived,  was  acquiring  some  fame  as  a  water- 
ing place.  There  were  four  springs  in  the  vi- 
cinity, whose  waters  were  supposed  to  possess 
some  medicinal  virtues,  the  scenery  was  grand, 
the  drives  numerous  and  pleasant,  and  the 
fishing  (and  the  shooting,  too,  in  the  proper 
season),  could  not  be  surpassed. 

At  the  foot  of  the  path  that  led  from  the 
carriage-porch  to  the  lake,  was  a  boat-house 
which  afforded  shelter  to  some  of  Joe' s  friends 
whose  acquaintance  I  was  soon  to  make,  and  a 
short  distance  from  its  door  his  sail  boat,  the 
Young  Republic,  rode  at  her  moorings.  It 
was  indeed  a  pleasant  scene  that  was  spread 
out  before  me ;  but  before  I  had  time  to 
admire  it  sufficiently,  Joe  and  his  companion 
went  up  the  stone  steps  three  at  a  jump, 
rushed  into  the  hall,  fired  their  caps  at  the  hat- 
rack,  and  without  waiting  to  see  whether  or 
not  they  caught  on  the  pegs  at  which  they  were 
aimed,  ran  up  the  wide  stairs  that  led  to  the 
lloor  above.  I  held  my  breath  in  suspense  and 
wondered  what  in  the  world  was  the  matter 
now  ;  but  I  afterward  learned  that  I  had  no 


HISTORIAN   OF  THE   WAYEING   FAMILY.      31 

cause  for  uneasiness,  and  that  that  is  the  way 
boys  generally  conduct  themselves  when  they 
go  into  a  house.  It  saves  them  the  trouble  of 
hunting  up  their  father  and  mother  and  telling 
them  that  they  have  got  home  without  being 
run  over  by  the  cars,  or  knocked  down  by  a 
runaway  horse,  or  drowned  in  the  lake. 

The  room  into  which  Joe  conducted  his 
friend  was  like  the  private  sanctum  of  every 
other  boy  who  delights  in  the  sports  of  the  woods 
and  fields,  with  this  exception  :  It  was  in 
perfect  order,  and  as  neat  as  a  new  pin.  Joe's 
mother  wouldn't  have  it  any  other  way,  and 
neither  would  Joe.  Indeed  it  was  a  favorite 
saying  of  his  that  if  folks  would  keep  away 
and  let  his  things  alone  (by  "  folks  "  he  meant 
to  designate  old  Betty,  the  housekeeper,  who, 
according  to  Joe' sway  of  thinking,  was  "awful 
fussy  "),  he  could  find  any  thing  he  wanted, 
from  a  postage-stamp  to  a  spoon-oar,  on  the 
darkest  of  nights,  and  without  a  lamp  to  aid 
him  in  the  search. 

The  room  looked  a  good  deal  like  a  museum 
I  afterward  saw,  only  it  was  on  a  much  smaller 
scale,  of  course,  and  it  contained  so  many 


32  JOE  WAYEING   AT   HOME. 

rare  and  curious  things  that  Joe's  friends 
were  always  glad  of  an  invitation  "to  step 
up  for  a  few  minutes."  Uncle  Joe's  love 
for  the  rod  and  gun  had  led  him  to  roam  all 
over  his  own  country,  as  well  as  to  some  remote 
corners  of  foreign  lands,  and  during  these  ram- 
bles he  never  forgot  the  boy  at  home  who 
thought  so  much  of  relics  and  souvenirs  of  all 
kinds,  and  took  such  good  care  of  them.  He 
gave  Joe  the  Alpine  stock  which  had  assisted 
him  in  his  ascent  of  Mount  Blanc  ;  the  Indian 
saddle  and  bridle  he  had  used  when  fleeing 
from  the  agency  at  the  time  the  Utes  rose  in 
rebellion  and  killed  Meeker  and  all  the  other 
whites  who  did  not  succeed  in  making  good 
their  escape  ;  the  head  of  the  first  bison  he 
had  ever  shot,  and  which,  having  been  mounted 
by  an  expert  taxidermist,  had  been  hung  above 
the  looking-glass  over  the  mantle  to  serve  as 
a  resting  place  for  the  sword  and  pistols  Uncle 
Joe  carried  during  the  war,  the  elk-horn  bow, 
quiver  of  arrows,  scalping  knife  and  moccasins 
presented  to  him  by  a  Sioux  chief  ;  and  for  the 
prize  lancewood  bow  won  by  my  master  at  a 
shooting  match  ;  for  Joe  was  an  archer,  as  well 


HISTOKIAN   OF  THE   WAYRING   FAMILY.      33 

as  an  angler  and  wing  shot,  and  he  had  been 
Master  Bowman  of  the  Mount  Airy  Toxophi- 
lites  until  he  became  tired  of  the  office  and  gave 
it  up.  These  articles,  and  a  good  many  others 
which  I  did  not  have  time  to  look  at,  were  so 
neatly  and  artistically  arranged  that  it  did  not 
seem  to  me  that  a  single  one  of  them  could  be 
moved  without  spoiling  the  effect  of  the  whole. 
Nothing  looked  out  of  place,  not  even  the 
black,  uncouth  object  that  lay  in  a  little 
recess  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  room.  Having 
never  seen  any  thing  just  like  him  before,  I 
could  not  make  out  what  he  was,  and  I  waited 
rather  impatiently  for  his  master  to  go  out  of 
the  room  so  that  I  could  speak  to  him  ;  but  Joe 
did  not  seem  to  be  in  any  hurry  to  leave.  He 
stood  me  up  in  a  corner,  and  then  he  and  Roy 
seated  themselves  at  a  table  in  the  middle  of 
the  room,  and  proceeded  to  "  fix  up"  a  debate 
that  was  to  be  held  at  the  High  School  on  the 
afternoon  of  the  coming  Friday.  The  ques- 
tion was  :  "  Ought  corporal  punishment  in 
schools  to  be  abolished  \  "  No  doubt  it  was  a 
matter  in  which  both  Joe  and  Roy  had  been 
deeply  interested  in  their  younger  days,  but 


34  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

it  did  not  affect  ine  one  way  or  the  other,  and 
consequently  I  paid  very  little  attention  to 
what  they  said.  My  time  was  fully  taken  up 
with  the  strange  things  I  saw  around  me. 

At  last,  to  my  great  satisfaction,  the  boys 
concluded  that  they  could  "  fix  up  "  the  matter 
while  sailing  about  the  lake  in  the  Young 
Republic,  better  than  they  could  while  sitting 
by  the  table,  especially  if  they  could  find  some 
boat  to  race  with,  so  they  bolted  out  of  the  room 
with  much  noise  and  racket,  and  left  the  house, 
banging  the  hall  door  loudly  behind  them. 
Then  I  turned  to  speak  to  the  object  that  occu- 
pied the  recess  on  the  other  side  of  the  room, 
and  found  that  he  was  quite  as  willing  to  make 
my  acquaintance  as  I  was  to  make  his. 

"  Hallo  !  "  said  he  ;  and  I  afterward  learned 
that  that  is  the  way  in  which  school  boys  and 
telephones  always  greet  each  other. 

"  Hallo  !  "  said  I,  in  reply.  "  Who  are  you  ? 
if  I  may  be  so  bold  as  to  inquire." 

"Oh,  that's  all  right,"  answered  my  new 
acquaintance,  cheerfully.  "Everybody  who 
sees  me  for  the  first  time  wants  to  know  all 
about  me.  I  don1 1  suppose  I  am  much  to  look 


HISTORIAN   OF   THE   WAYRIJSTG   FAMILY.     35 

at— indeed,  I  know  I  am  not,  because  I  can  see 
my  reflection  in  the  mirror  over  the  mantle — 
but  I  am  the  boss  boafc  on  the  rapids,  and  am* 
worth  more  on  a  '  carry '  than  all  the  cedar  and 
birch-bark  canoes  in  America.  I  am  the  his- 
torian of  the  Wayring  family,  or,  rather,  of  the 
youngest  branch  of  it,"  he  added,  with  no  little 
pride  in  his  tones.  "  I  carry  secrets  enough  to 
sink  any  ordinary  craft,  and  if  I  only  had  the 
power  to  communicate  some  of  them  to  my 
master,  perhaps  he  wouldn't  open  his  eyes  !  I 
am  a  canvas  canoe,  at  your  service." 

"Oh!"  said  I. 

' '  Yes, ' '  said  he.  "  And  unless  my  judgment 
is  at  fault,  you  are  a  fly-rod.  I  heard  Joe  say 
that  his  uncle  was  going  to  get  one  for  him." 

"  That  is  just  what  I  am,"  I  made  answer. 
"Nickel-plated  ferrules  and  reel-seat,  artis- 
tically wound  with  cane  and  silk,  and  lance- 
wood  throughout." 

My  lofty  speech  did  not  have  the  effect  I 
thought  it  would.  The  canvas  canoe  seemed 
to  have  rather  an  exalted  opinion  of  himself, 
and  I  did  not  see  why  I  should  stay  in  the 
background  for  want  of  somebody  to  praise  me, 


36  JOE  WAYKING   AT   HOME. 

and  so  I  praised  myself  ;  and  that's  a  bad  thing 
to  do.  I  only  succeeded  in  exciting  the  merri- 
ment of  every  occupant  of  the  room,  for  I  heard 
derisive  laughter  on  all  sides  of  me. 

"Don't  throw  on  airs,  young  fellow,"  said 
the  canvas  canoe,  as  soon  as  he  could  speak. 
"  You  have  come  to  the  wrong  shop  for  that 
sort  of  work.  I  wouldn'  t  boast  until  I  had  done 
something,  if  I  were  in  your  place.  If  there  is 
any  good  in  you,  you  will  fare  well  in  Joe's 
hands,  and  he  will  do  your  bragging  for  you  ; 
but  if  you  fail  him  when  the  pinch  comes,  you 
will  most  likely  be  chucked  into  the  lake,  or 
given  away  to  the  first  little  ragamuffin  he  can 
find  who  wants  a  rod  that  is  good  for  nothing. 
So  take  a  friend' s  advice  and  hold  your  tongue 
until  you  have  seen  service." 

I  felt  somewhat  abashed  by  this  rebuke,  for, 
of  course,  I  was  desirous  of  making  a  favorable 
impression  upon  those  with  whom  I  was  to  be 
associated  all  the  days  of  my  life.  I  thought  I 
had  made  them  despise  me  ;  but  the  next  words 
uttered  by  the  canvas  canoe  showed  me  that  I 
need  have  no  fears  on  that  score. 

"  A  boat  and  a  rod  generally  go  together, 


HISTORIAN    OF   THE  WAYKING  FAMILY.      37 

you  know,"  said  he  ;  "so  I  suppose  that  you 
and  I  will  see  much  of  each  other  hereafter." 

"And  how  about  me  ?"  piped  a  shrill  voice 
close  beside  me. 

I  looked  down,  and  there  was  the  creel.  I 
had  not  thought  of  him  before,  and  it  was  plain 
that  the  canoe  hadn't  either,  for  he  exclaimed, 
in  a  tone  of  surprise  : 

"Who  spoke?  Oh,  it  was  you,  was  it? 
Well,  I  don't  know  just  what  Joe  will  do  with 
you,  for  he  never  owned  a  creel  before.  He  has 
always  carried  his  dinner  in  his  pocket  when 
he  went  trouting,  or  in  a  basket  if  he  went  out 
on  the  lake  after  bass,  and  brought  his  fish 
home  on  a  string ;  but  he  will  find  use  for  you, 
you  may  depend  upon  that.  He  is  a  busy  boy, 
is  Joe,  and  he  keeps  every  body  around  him 
busy,  too." 

"  I  understood  you  to  say  that  you  are  the 
historian  of  the  Wayring  family,"  I  ventured 
to  remark,  when  the  canoe  ceased  speaking. 

"Of  the  youngest  branch  of  it — yes.  I  have 
been  a  member  of  this  household  for  a  long 
time.  Can't  you  see  that  I  am  a  veteran? 
Don't  you  notice  my  wounds?  I  have  been 


38  JOE  WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

snagged  more  times  than  I  can  remember,  I 
have  had  holes  punched  in  me  by  rocks,  and 
some  of  my  ribs  have  been  fractured  ;  but  I  am 
a  pretty  good  boat  yet.  At  least  Joe  thinks  so, 
for  he  is  going  to  take  me  somewhere  this 
coming  summer,  probably  up  into  Michigan  to 
run  the  rapids  of  the  Menominee  ;  and,  to  tell 
you  the  honest  truth,  I  am  looking  forward  to 
that  trip  with  fear  and  trembling.  I  have  heard 
Uncle  Joe  say  that  those  rapids  were  s  omething 
to  make  a  man's  hair  stand  on  end  ;  but  if  my 
master  says  '  go  ' ,  I  shall  take  him  through  if 
I  can.  I  have  carried  him  through  some  dan- 
gerous places,  and  whenever  I  have  got  him 
into  trouble,  it  has  been  owing  to  his  own  care- 
lessness or  mismanagement." 

"  I  suppose  he  thinks  a  great  deal  of  you  ? " 
said  I. 

"  Well,  he  ought  to,"  replied  the  canoe,  with 
a  self -satisfied  air.  "I  have  stuck  to  him 
through  thick  and  thin  for  a  good  many  years. 
I  was  the  very  first  plaything  he  owned,  after 
he  took  it  into  his  head  that  he  was  getting  too 
big  to  ride  a  rocking-horse.  He  used  to  paddle 
me  around  on  a  duck  pond,  where  the  water 


HISTORIAN   OF  THE   WAYRING   FAMILY.      39 

wasn't  more  than  a  foot  deep,  long  before  it 
was  thought  safe  to  trust  him  with  a  rod  or 
gun.  But  Joe  does  not  seem  to  care  much  for 
a  gun.  He  is  fairly  carried  away  by  his  love  of 
archery,  and  a  longbow  is  his  favorite  weapon." 

"  Do  you  know  who  Tom  Bigden  is,  and  what 
Joe  has  done  to  incur  his  ill-will?"  I  inquired. 

' '  I  have  some  slight  acquaintance  with  that 
young  gentleman,"  answered  the  canoe,  with  a 
laugh.  ' '  It  was  through  him  that  I  was  snagged 
and  sunk  in  the  Indian  Lake  country.  I  don't 
know  how  the  fuss  started,  and  neither  does 
any  body  except  Tom  Bigden  himself  ;  but  I 
suppose  that  fellow  over  there  and  a  few  others 
like  him,  are  wholly  to  blame  for  it." 

"What  fellow?  Over  where?"  I  asked ; 
for  of  course  the  canvas  canoe  could  not  point 
his  finger  or  nod  his  head  to  tell  me  which  way 
to  look. 

"This  fellow  up  here,"  said  a  new  voice, 
which  came  from  over  the  bookcase. 

I  looked  up,  and  there  was  another  lance- 
wood  bow,  resting  on  a  pair  of  deer's  antlers. 
He  was  not  quite  as  fancy  as  the  prize  bow  of 
whom  I  have  already  spoken.  His  green  plush 


40  JOE  WAYRING  AT  HOME. 

handle  was  beginning  to  look  threadbare,  and 
that,  to  my  mind,  indicated  that  he  had  seen 
service. 

*'  You  wouldn't  think  that  a  few  insignificant 
things  like  that  could  be  the  means  of  setting 
a  whole  village  together  by  the  ears,  would 
you  ?  "  continued  the  canoe. 

"Insignificant  yourself,"  retorted  the  long 
bow  ;  but  I  was  glad  to  notice  that  he  did  not 
speak  as  if  he  were  angry.  The  various  articles 
I  saw  about  me  all  cherished  the  most  friendly 
feelings  for  one  another,  but  when  they  had 
nothing  to  do,  they  were  like  a  lot  of  idle  boys 
—always  trying  to  "get  a  joke"  upon  some  of 
their  number.  ' '  You  never  won  a  prize  for  Joe, 
did  you  ?  Well,  I  have.  Go  and  win  a  race 
before  you  brag.  You  can't ;  you're  much  too 
clumsy.  One  of  those  Shadow  or  Rob  Roy 
canoes  out  there  on  the  lake  would  beat  you 
out  of  sight  in  going  a  mile." 

I  cared  nothing  at  all  for  this  side  sparring. 
I  knew  that  I  would  have  plenty  of  time  in 
which  to  listen  to  it  during  the  long  winter 
months,  when  canoe,  long  bow  and  fly-rod 
would  be  laid  up  in  ordinary,  while  skates, 


HISTORIAN   OF  THE  WAYRING   FAMILY.      41 

snow-shoes  and  toboggans  took  our  places  in 
the  affections  of  our  master  for  the  time  being. 
For  I  saw  snow-shoes  and  a  toboggan  there,  and 
I  knew  what  they  were,  because  I  had  seen  some 
like  them  in  Mr.  Brown's  store.  They  came 
from  Canada,  and  were  almost  as  full  of  stories 
as  the  canoe  was.  Joe  had  worn  the  snow- 
shoes  while  hunting  caribou  in  Newfoundland 
in  company  with  his  uncle,  and  the  toboggan 
had  carried  his  master  with  lightning  speed 
over  the  ice  bridge  at  Niagara  Falls.  Many  an 
hour  that  would  otherwise  have  dragged  by  on 
leaden  wings  did  they  brighten  for  us  by  relat- 
ing scraps  of  their  personal  history,  and  at  some 
future  time  I  may  induce  them  to  put  those 
same  narratives  into  print  for  your  benefit ; 
but  just  now  we  are  interested  in  Tom  Bigden. 
We  want  to  know  why  he  disliked  Joe  Way- 
ring,  and  what  made  him  take  every  opportu- 
nity he  could  find  to  annoy  him. 

"  When  you  talk  about  racing  you  don't 
want  to  leave  me  out,"  observed  the  toboggan, 
"  for  I  am  the  lad  to  show  speed.  Give  me  a 
fair  field,  and  I  would  not  be  much  afraid  to 
try  conclusions  with  an  express  train.  And  it 


42  JOE   WAYRING-   AT   HOME. 

takes  as  much,  if  not  more,  skill  to  manage  me 
than  it  does  to  handle  an  awkward  canvas 
canoe,  who  is  always  bobbing  about,  turning 
first  one  way  and  then  another  as  if  he  were 
too  contrary  to  hold  a  straight  course." 

"I  wasn't  intended  for  a  racing  boat,  and  I 
know  I  can't  compete  with  such  flyers  as  you 
and  a  Rob  Roy,"  said  the  canvas  canoe, 
modestly  ;  and  I  afterward  found  that  none  of 
my  new  acquaintances  were  half  as  conceited 
as  they  pretended  to  be.  They  boasted  just  to 
hear  themselves  talk,  and  because  they  had  no 
other  way  of  passing  the  time  when  they  were 
unemployed  ;  but  each  was  perfectly  willing 
to  acknowledge  the  superiority  of  the  other  in 
his  own  particular  line  of  business.  "I  was 
intended  for  a  portable  craft — something  that 
can  be  folded  into  a  small  compass  and  carried 
over  a  portage  without  much  trouble  ;  and  in 
that  respect  I  am  far  ahead  of  a  stiff-necked 
Canuck,  who,  having  made  up  his  mind  just 
how  much  space  he  ought  to  occupy  in  the 
world,  would  rather  break  than  bend  to  give 
elbow-room  to  his  betters.  "You  wanted  me 
to  tell  you  something  about  Tom  Bigden,  I 


HISTORIAN   OF   THE   WAYRING    FAMILY.      43 

believe,"  added  the  canoe,  addressing  himself 
to  me.  "  Well,  it  is  a  long  story,  but  you  will 
have  plenty  of  time  to  listen  to  it ;  for  if  Joe 
and  Roy  have  gone  out  on  the  lake,  they  will 
not  return  much  before  dark.  You  ought  to 
know  the  full  history  of  Tom' s  dealings  with 
Joe,  for  you  may  become  the  victim  of  persecu- 
tion as  the  rest  of  us  are  and  have  been  ever 
since  Tom  came  here  ;  and  if  you  were  not 
posted,  you  would  not  know  how  to  account 
for  it.  A  long  time  ago— 

But  there !  I  never  could  learn  to  tell  a 
story  in  the  words  of  another,  so  I  will,  for  a 
time,  drop  the  personal  pronoun,  which  I  don't 
like  to  use  if  I  can  help  it,  and  give  you  in  my 
own  homely  way  the  substance  of  the  narrative 
to  which  I  listened  that  afternoon.  But  please 
understand  one  thing  before  I  begin :  The 
historian  was  not  a  personal  witness  of  all  the 
incidents  I  am  about  to  describe.  He  couldn't 
have  been,  unless  he  possessed  the  power  of 
being  in  half  a  dozen  diiferent  places  at  the 
same  time.  He  saw  and  heard  some  things,  of 
course,  but  much  of  his  information  had  been 
obtained  from  the  long  bow,  and  from  Joe  and 


44  JOE  WAYRING  AT   HOME. 

his  friends,  who  had  freely  discussed  matters 
in  his  presence  ;  and  by  putting  all  these 
different  incidents  together,  he  was  able  to 
make  up  a  story  which,  to  me,  was  very 
interesting.  I  hope  it  may  prove  so  to  you. 


CHAPTER  III. 

SOMETHING      ABOUT       TOM      BIGDEN      AND      HIS 
COUSINS. 

MOUNT  AIRY,  the  village  in  which  Joe 
Wayring  and  Roy  Sheldon  lived,  was 
situated  a  few  miles  away  from  a  large  city 
which,  for  want  of  a  better  name,  we  will  call 
New  London.  It  was  so  far  distant  from  the 
city  that  it  could  not  properly  be  spoken  of  as 
one  of  its  suburbs,  and  yet  the  railroad  brought 
the  village  so  near  to  it  that  a  good  many  men 
who  did  business  in  New  London,  Joe's  father 
and  Roy' s  among  the  number,  had  their  homes 
there.  It  was  a  veritable  "hide  and  seek 
town".  Sometimes,  as  you  were  approaching 
it  on  the  cars,  you  would  see  it  very  plainly, 
and  then  again  you  wouldn't.  It  was  nestled 
in  among  high  mountains,  and  in  the  woods 
which  covered  them  from  base  to  summit 
could  be  found  an  abundance  of  small  game, 


46  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

such  as  hares,  squirrels  and  grouse,  that 
afforded  sport  to  the  local  Nimrods,  and  even 
received  attention  from  the  New  London  gun- 
ners. It  was  surrounded  by  a  perfect  net- 
work of  babbling  trout  brooks,  and  there  were 
several  lakes  and  ponds  in  the  vicinity  in  which 
some  of  the  finest  fish  in  the  world  awaited  the 
lure  of  the  skillful  angler.  And  it  required 
skill  to  take  them,  too.  They  were  shy  of 
strangers,  and  it  wasn'  t  every  body  who  could 
go  out  in  the  morning  and  come  back  at  night 
with  a  full  creel. 

Nor  was  larger  game  wanting  to  tempt  the 
hunter  who  plumed  himself  on  being  a  good 
shot '  with  the  rifle.  Visitors  standing  upon 
the  veranda  of  the  principal  hotel  in  the 
village  had  often  heard  wolves  howling  in  the 
mountains,  and  on  more  than  one  occasion  a 
deer  had  been  seen  standing  on  the  opposite 
shore  of  Mirror  Lake  ( it  was  generally  called 
Way  ring's  Lake,  because  Joe's  father  owned 
the  land  on  all  sides  of  it ),  regarding  with  much 
curiosity  the  evidences  of  civilization  that  had 
sprung  up  on  the  other  side.  More  than  that, 
a  bear  was  expected  to  make  his  appearance  at 


TOM   BIGDEN   AND   HIS    COUSINS.  47 

least  once  every  season  ;  and  when  word  was 
passed  that  he  was  in  sight,  what  a  hubbub  it 
created  among  the  visiting  sportsmen  !  How 
prompt  they  were  to  seize  their  guns  and  run  out 
after  him,  and  how  sure  they  were  to  comeback 
empty-handed  !  Uncle  Joe  used  to  say  that  he 
believed  the  managers  of  the  hotels  would  close 
their  doors  against  the  man  who  was  lucky 
enough  to  shoot  that  bear,  for  unless  Bruin 
had  a  companion  to  take  his  place,  his  death 
would  spoil  their  advertisements.  For  years 
the  proprietor  of  the  Mount  Airy  House  had 
been  accustomed  to  tell  the  public,  through  the 
New  London  papers,  that  bear  could  be  seen 
from  the  piazza  of  his  hotel,  and  the  announce- 
ment had  brought  him  many  a  dollar  from 
sportsmen  who  came  from  all  parts  of  the  coun- 
try to  shoot  that  bear.  Why  didn't  Uncle  Joe 
shoot  him  ?  He  owned  the  hotel. 

We  have  said  that  Mount  Airy  was  acquir- 
ing some  fame  as  a  watering-place ;  but  that 
must  not  lead  you  to  infer  that  it  was  like 
other  places  of  resort — lively  enough  in  sum- 
mer, but  very  dull  in  winter,  for  such  was  by 
no  means  the  case.  The  village  was  lively  at  all 


48  JOE  WAYRING  AT  HOME. 

seasons  of  the  year.  Of  course  there  were  many 
more  people  there  in  summer  than  there  were  in 
winter,  for  during  warm  weather  the  hotels 
and  all  the  boarding  houses  were  crowded  with 
visitors,  and  so  were  the  cottages  on  the  other 
side  of  the  lake  ;  but  when  these  visitors  went 
away,  the  citizens  did  not  hibernate  like  so 
many  woodchucks  and  wait  for  them  to  come 
back,  because  they  were  not  dependent  upon 
tourists  either  for  their  livelihood  or  for  means 
of  entertainment.  Strangers  were  astonished 
when  they  found  what  a  driving,  go-ahead  sort 
of  people  they  were.  They  were  proud  of  their 
village,  of  its  churches,  its  hotels,  its  fine  private 
residences,  and  its  high-school  was  so  well 
and  favorably  known  that  it  attracted  students 
from  all  parts  of  the  country.  It  could  boast 
of  an  efficient  fire  department,  composed  of  all 
the  leading  men  in  town  (the  ministers  and 
teachers,  to  a  man,  belonged  to  it ),  a  military 
company  which  formed  a  part  of  the  National 
Guard  of  the  State,  and  a  band  of  archers  known 
as  the  Mount  Airy  Toxophilites.  We  ought, 
rather,  to  say  that  there  were  two  bands  of 
archers,  one  being  composed  of  boys  and  girls, 


TOM   BIGDEN   AND   HIS   COUSINS.  49 

and  the  other  of  their  fathers,  mothers  and 
older  brothers  and  sisters.  They  were  both 
uniformed,  but  the  boy  members  of  the 
Toxophilites  were  the  only  ones  who  ever 
paraded. 

It  was  worth  a  long  journey  to  see  these 
forty  young  archers  turn  out  and  march 
through  the  streets  to  the  music  of  the  band. 
They  looked  as  neat  in  their  green  and  white 
suits,  with  short  top  boots,  and  black  hats 
turned  up  at  one  side  and  fastened  with  a 
black  feather,  as  the  military  company  did  in 
their  blue  uniforms  and  white  helmets  :  and  as 
for  their  marching,  it  was  nearly  perfect.  They 
had  a  manual  of  arms  which  originated  with 
Uncle  Joe,  who,  for  more  than  a  year,  acted  as 
their  instructor  and  drill-master.  They  were 
governed  by  a  constitution  and  by-laws,  and 
fines  were  imposed  upon  those  who  did  not 
turn  out  regularly  to  the  drills  and  parades. 
They  had  shooting  matches  at  which  prizes 
were  distributed,  also  a  grand  annual  hunt, 
followed  by  a  dinner  that  was  equally  grand  ; 
and  every  year  some  of  the  boys  spent  a  week 
or  two  camping  in  the  mountains,  taking  bows 


50  JOE   WAYKING   AT   HOME. 

and  arrows  with  them  instead  of  guns.  A  good 
many  of  the  young  archers  were  very  fine  shots 
with  these  novel  weapons,  and  there  were 
about  half  a  dozen  of  them,  of  whom  Joe  and 
Roy  made  two,  who  stood  ready  at  any  time 
to  meet  an  equal  number  of  riflemen  at  the 
trap,  the  archers  shooting  at  twelve  yards  rise 
and  the  riflemen  at  twenty. 

On  the  morning  of  July  4,  18 — ,  a  large 
party  of  newly-arrived  visitors  were  seated  on 
the  wide  veranda  of  the  Mount  Airy  House, 
enjoying  the  refreshing  breeze  that  came  to 
them  from  over  the  lake,  and  congratulating 
themselves  on  having  left  the  city,  with  all  its 
dust,  heat  and  noise,  behind  them  for  one  good 
long  month  at  least.  Some  of  these  visitors 
had  never  been  there  before,  and  consequently 
they  knew  little  or  nothing  about  the  village 
and  its  inhabitants.  Among  these  were  Tom 
Bigden  and  his  two  cousins,  Ralph  and  Loren 
Farnsworth,  who  were  leaning  over  the  Tail- 
ing, fanning  their  flushed  faces  with  their 
hats,  and  wondering  how  in  the  world  they 
were  going  to  put  in  four  weeks'  time  in  that 
desolate  town.  They  were  city  boys,  any  body 


TOM   BIGDEN   AND   HIS    COUSINS.  51 

could  see  that,  and  they  were  disappointed,  and 
angry  as  well,  because  their  parents  had 
not  decided  to  spend  a  portion  of  the  summer  at 
some  place  convenient  to  salt  water,  so  that 
they  could  enjoy  a  dip  in  the  surf  now  and  then. 

"  I  see  a  boat  down  there,"  observed  Loren. 
"  I  wonder  if  we  could  hire  it  for  an  hour  or 
two  \  I  think  I  should  like  to  take  a  sail  on 
that  lake,  it  looks  so  cool  and  inviting." 

"Humph!"  exclaimed  Tom.  "I'd  much 
rather  take  a  run  up  to  Newport  or  over  to 
Greenbush  in  my  father's  yacht." 

"I  wouldn't,"  answered  Loren.  "I  can  go 
down  to  the  Sound  any  day,  but  a  gem  of  a  lake 
like  this  is  something  I  haven't  feasted  my  eyes 
upon  in  a  long  time.  I  am  going  to  see  if  I  can 
hire  a  boat ;  and  after  I  get  tired  of  sailing 
around  in  her,  I'm  going  to  lie  to  under  the 
shade  of  some  tree  that  hangs  over  the  water, 
and  be  as  lazy  as  I  know  how.  That's  what  I 
came  up  here  for." 

'•  Boom  !  "  said  a  field-piece,  from  some  dis- 
tant part  of  the  village. 

' '  What  was  that  3 ' '  exclaimed  Ralph.  ' '  A 
cannon  \ ' ' 


52  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

"  Naw,"  replied  Tom,  in  a  tone  which  implied 
that  he  had  no  patience  with  any  one  who  could 
ask  such  a  question.  ' '  What  would  a  cannon  be 
doing  up  here  in  the  woods  ?  Do  you  think 
these  greenhorns  are  going  to  try  to  get  up  a 
celebration  for  our  benefit  ?" 

"No,  I  don't;  but  they've  got  up  one  for 
their  own.  Do  you  hear  that?"  answered 
Ralph,  as  the  warning  roll  of  a  drum,  followed 
by  the  music  of  a  band,  rang  out  on  the  air. 
' '  The  procession,  or  whatever  it  is,  is  coming 
this  way,  too.  Now  I  shall  expect  to  see  some- 
thing that  will  eclipse  any  thing  New  London 
ever  thought  of  getting  up." 

It  wasn't  a  celebration  ;  it  was  only  the  an- 
nual review  of  the  Mount  Airy  fire  department, 
which  was  always  held  on  the  Fourth  of  July. 
Ralph  and  his  cousins  were  fully  prepared  to 
make  all  sorts  of  fun  of  it,  but  when  the  head 
of  the  procession  came  into  view  around  the 
corner  of  the  street  below,  they  were  so  sur- 
prised at  the  size  of  it  that  they  had  not  a  word 
to  say.  It  took  up  the  whole  width  of  the 
street,  and  that  it  was  determined  to  have  all 
the  room  it  wanted,  was  made  plain  by  the 


TOM   BIGDEN   AND   HIS   COUSINS.  53 

actions  of  a  couple  of  mounted  policemen  who 
rode  in  front  to  clear  the  way. 

"That's  good  marching,  boys,"  said  Loren, 
who  had  seen  so  much  of  it  in  New  London  that 
he  thought  himself  qualified  to  judge.  "It  is 
a  very  creditable  display  for  so  small  a  place  as 
this." 

"Every  body  seems  to  think  it's  going  to  be 
something  grand,"  sneered  Tom,  who  was  really 
amazed  at  the  rapidity  with  which  the  spacious 
veranda  was  filled  by  the  guests,  who  came 
pouring  out  of  the  wide  doors  in  a  steady 
stream. 

"Why,  there's  a  military  company  in  line 
with  the  firemen — two  of  them,"  exclaimed 
Ralph. 

"  Visiting  companies,  no  doubt,"  said  Tom, 
"  and  that's  what  makes  every  one  so  anxious 
to  see  them." 

"  There' s  where  you  are  wrong,  Tom,"  said 
Mr.  Farnsworth,  who,  approaching  them  un- 
observed, had  heard  every  word  of  their  con- 
versation. "  You  never  saw  a  parade  just  like 
this,  and  I  don't  believe  you  will  ever  see  an- 
other unless  your  father  and  I  carry  out  some 


54  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

plans  we  have  been  talking  about,  and  come  up 
here  to  live." 

"To  live?"  echoed  Tom. 

"  Up  here  in  the  woods  ? "  cried  Ralph. 

"Among  all  these  country  greenhorns!" 
chimed  in  Loren. 

"You  will  find  very  few  country  greenhorns 
in  Mount  Airy,"  said  Mr.  Farns worth,  with  a 
laugh.  "Why,  boys,  those  fire  companies  rep- 
resent millions  of  New  London's  business  cap- 
ital." 

"Oh!"  said  Tom. 

"Ah!"  said  Ralph. 

"  That  makes  the  thing  look  different,"  add- 
ed Loren.  "  I  supposed  that  they  were  made 
up  of  the  same  material  we  used  to  find  in  the 
old  volunteer  organizations." 

"By  no  means.  They  are  all  rich  and  intel- 
ligent men.  They  own  valuable  property  here, 
and  by  taking  an  interest  in  their  fire  depart- 
ment, they  get  their  insurance  at  much  lower 
rates  than  we  do  in  the  city." 

The  near  approach  of  the  column  put  a  stop 
to  the  conversation.  First  came  the  drum- 
major,  a  big  six-footer,  with  a  high  bear-skin 


TOM   BIGDEN   AND   HIS   COUSINS.  65 

cap,  which  made  him  look  a  great  deal  taller 
than  he  really  was,  and  behind  him  the  band, 
which  discoursed  as  fine  music  as  any  body 
wanted  to  hear.  Then  came  the  hook  and 
ladder  company,  two  hundred  strong,  march- 
ing four  abreast  and  drawing  their  heavy  truck 
after  them  without  the  least  apparent  exertion. 
Next  came  a  steam  fire  engine,  drawn  by  men 
instead  of  horses,  after  that  a  hose  cart,  fol- 
lowed by  a  small  company  of  about  twenty 
young  fellows  in  black  dress-coats  and  white 
trowsers  and  caps,  who  pulled  along  some- 
thing that  looked  like  a  skeleton  road  wagon, 
loaded  with  Babcock  fire  extinguishers. 

"That's  a  little  the  queerest  looking  turn-out 
I  ever  saw,"  Tom  remarked.  "  They  couldn't 
do  any  thing  toward  putting  out  a  fire.  I  sup- 
pose they  are  more  for  show  than  any  thing 
else." 

"  Wrong  again,"  said  Mr.  Farnsworth. 
' '  They  have  done  good  work,  and  the  citizens, 
in  recognition  of  their  services,  presented  them 
with  money  enough  to  build  an  engine  house 
for  themselves,  and  furnish  it  in  fine  style." 

Next  came  the  soldiers,  veterans,  every  one 


56  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

of  them,  and  behind  them  a  company  of  oddly 
uniformed  youngsters,  whose  movements  were 
governed  by  the  blast  of  a  bugle  instead  of  the 
word  of  command.  They  must  have  been  the 
ones  the  guests  were  waiting  for,  for  when  they 
came  in  sight,  and,  following  the  movements  of 
the  military  company,  executed  the  maneuver  : 
"Platoons  right  front  into  line,"  which  they 
did  with  as  much  soldier-like  precision  as  the 
veterans  themselves,  the  gentlemen  on  the 
veranda  cheered  them  lustily,  while  the  ladies 
waved  their  handkerchiefs  and  bombarded  the 
ranks  with  bouquets,  which  were  deftly  caught 
by  the  boys,  and  impaled  upon  the  ends  of 
their  long  bows. 

"Now,  then,  can  any  body  tell  me  who  and 
what  those  fellows  are  ? ' '  exclaimed  Ralph. 

"They  are  the  Mount  Airy  Toxophilites," 
replied  Mr.  Farns worth. 

"Lovers  of  a  bow  or  arrow,"  said  Ralph,  who 
was  well  up  in  his  Greek.  "  What  do  they 
do?" 

' '  Oh,  they  have  regular  shooting-matches, 
drills  and  parades,  and  now  and  then  a  hunt 
and  a  camp  in  the  woods." 


TOM   BIGDEN  AND   HIS   COUSINS.  57 

"They  can't  hit  any  thing  with  those  bows, 
of  course." 

"Yes,  I  believe  they  can/'  replied  Mr. 
Farnsworth.  "  I  am  told  that  when  they  go  on 
a  hunt,  they  are  as  sure  of  coming  back  full- 
handed  as  those  who  use  guns.  After  passing 
in  review  before  the  trustees,  they  are  to  have  a 
drill  in  the  park.  I  see  that  a  good  many  of 
the  guests  are  getting  ready  to  go  down,  and  if 
you  would  like  to  see  it,  we  will  go  also." 

Tom  and  his  cousins  'had  found  reason  to 
change  some  of  their  opinions  during  the  last 
few  minutes,  and  that  was  just  what  Mr. 
Farnsworth  desired.  He  had  talked  with  that 
very  end  in  view — to  make  them  see  that  New 
London  was  not  the  only  place  in  the  world  in 
which  boys  could  enjoy  themselves,  and  to  pre- 
pare them  for  the  change  which  he  and  his 
brother-in-law,  Tom's  father,  intended  to  make 
that  very  summer.  They  were  anxious  to  get 
their  boys  away  from  New  London,  for  it  was 
full  of  temptations  which  Tom  and  his  cousins 
found  it  hard  to  resist.  They  were  learning  to 
think  more  of  billiards  than  they  did  of  their 
books,  and  they  had  even  been  known  to  roll 


58  JOE  WAYRING  AT   HOME. 

ten-pins  for  soda  water.  Soda  water  wasn't 
hurtful,  and  neither  were  ten-pins  nor  billiards  ; 
but  the  conditions  under  which  the  one  was 
imbibed  and  the  others  played  certainly  were. 
In  Mount  Airy  there  was  none  of  that  sort  of 
thing.  Of  course  there  were  billiard  rooms  and 
ten-pin  alleys  there,  but  they  belonged  to  the 
hotels,  and  were  kept  for  the  exclusive  use  of 
the  guests.  The  men  who  had  just  marched  up 
the  street  owned  all  the  land  for  miles  around, 
and  they  would  not  sell  a  foot  of  it.  They 
were  willing  to  lease  it  for  a  term  of  years,  but 
before  they  did  so,  they  wanted  to  know  all 
about  the  man  who  applied  for  the  lease,  and 
the  business  he  intended  to  follow  while  he 
remained  in  town.  In  that  way  they  made  the 
society  of  the  village  just  what  they  wanted  it 
to  be.  It  is  true  that  some  objectionable  char- 
acters now  and  then  secured  a  temporary  foot- 
hold there,  but  as  soon  as  they  were  detected, 
they  were  "bounced"  without  ceremony. 

Mr.  Farnsworth  and  Mr.  Bigden  thought 
Mount  Airy  would  be  just  the  place  for  their 
boys,  but  the  latter  would  have  raised  the  most 
decided  objections  if  the  subject  of  a  change  of 


TOM   BIGDEN   AND    HIS   COUSINS.  59 

residence  had  been  broached  to  them  before 
they  witnessed  that  parade,  and  learned  some- 
thing about  the  men  and  boys  who  composed 
it. 

"I'll  tell  you  what's  a  fact !  "  said  Tom,  as 
he  and  his  cousins  walked  with  Mr.  Farnsworth 
toward  the  park  where  the  drill  was  to  be  held. 
"  Uncle  Alfred  was  right  when  he  said  that  we 
would  not  find  many  country  bumpkins  here. 
Those  bowmen  must  have  lots  of  fun.  Do  you 
and  father  really  intend  to  come  here  to  live  ? " 
he  added,  turning  to  Mr.  Farnsworth. 

"  We  have  been  thinking  and  talking  about 
it  for  a  long  tima,"  was  the  answer. 

"  All  right.  I  am  in  favor  of  it,"  said  Tom. 
"  I  wonder  if  we  could  get  into  that  company 
of  archers ! " 

"  Of  course  we  could,"  said  Loren. 

"  There's  no  '  of  course '  about  it,"  answered 
his  father.  "You  would  be  balloted  for  the 
same  as  the  rest ;  and  I  have  been  told  that  one 
black-ball  would  keep  you  out  for  a  year." 

"Humph!"  exclaimed  Tom.  "They 
wouldn'  t  black-ball  us.  I  guess  our  folks  have 
just  as  much  money  as  any  body  here." 


60  JOE   WAYRING  AT   HOME. 

"  No,  they  haven' t ;  and  even  if  they  had,  it 
would  make  no  sort  of  difference.  Money 
doesn'  t  rule  the  world  up  here  as  it  does  down 
in  New  London.  I  am  informed  that  some  of 
the  boys  in  that  company  are  so  poor  that  the 
others  had  to  help  them  buy  their  uniforms." 

"  Humph !  "  said  Tom.  "  Well,  if  that's  the 
sort  of  trash  they  take  into  their  company,  I 
don't  know  that  I  care  to  belong  to  it,  do  you, 
boys?  We  don't  have  any  thing  to  do  with 
such  fellows  in  the  city." 

''Couldn't  we  gradually  weed  them  out?" 
asked  Loren.  "That's  the  way  we  did  with 
our  ball  club,  you  know." 

"Yes,  and  what  was  the  consequence?" 
demanded  his  father.  "You  'weeded  out' 
your  very  best  players,  and  you  have  been 
beaten  by  every  club  you  have  met  since. 
Served  you  right,  too." 

"  Well,  I  would  rather  be  beaten  than  be 
chums  with  fellows  who  were  too  mean  to  chip 
in  two  or  three  dollars  when  we  wanted  to  get 
up  a  dinner,"  observed  Loren. 

"They  were  not  too  mean  ;  they  couldn't  do 
it.  The  two  or  three  dollars  that  you  speak  of 


TOM    BIGDEN  AND   HIS   COUSINS.  61 

so  lightly,  were  a  large  sum  in  the  eyes  of  boys 
whose  fathers  gain  a  livelihood  by  working  by 
the  day,  and  you  ought  to  have  exercised  a 
little  common  sense  in  your  dealings  with  them. 
If  it  were  necessary  that  you  should  have  the 
dinner  or  starve,  why  did  you  not  pay  for  it 
yourselves,  and  not  ask  those  poor  boys  to 
'chip  in',  as  you  term  it  ?  There's  the  high 
school,"  said  Mr.  Farnsworth,  pointing  with 
his  cane  to  an  imposing  building,  standing  in 
the  midst  of  extensive  and  well-kept  grounds 
which  occupied  one  whole  block  of  the  village 
property. 

"  That's  my  great  objection  to  Mount  Airy," 
said  Ralph,  shaking  his  fist  at  the  school  house. 
"Our  teacher  told  us  one  day  last  term  that 
the  binomial  theorem  is  just  the  same  in  China 
and  Brazil  that  it  is  in  New  London,  so  I  sup- 
pose it  must  be  the  same  up  here.  Fine  scenery 
around  a  school  house  doesn'  t  make  the  lessons 
inside  any  easier." 

"You're  right  there,"  growled  Tom,  who 
was  thinking  of  those  Orations  of  Cicero  to 
which  he  would  have  to  devote  his  attention 
next  term,  "I'd  much  rather  go  fishing." 


62  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

The  boys  reached  the  park  long  before  the 
procession  did,  and  took  up  a  position  near  the 
pagoda  in  which  the  president  of  the  village 
and  the  trustees  were  to  stand  while  the  line 
passed  in  review.  When  it  arrived,  the  band 
led  the  way  around  the  park  until  it  met  the 
advancing  column  ;  then  it  turned  inside  of  it 
and  went  around  again,  and  thus  the  whole 
line,  with  the  exception  of  the  Toxophilites, 
was  wound  up  like  a  coil.  The  archers  kept 
straight  ahead,  the  boys  in  tlxe  ranks  carrying 
arms,  and  the  captain  saluting  by  bringing  his 
bow  to  a  position  that  somewhat  resembled  the 
"secure  arms"  of  the  tactics,  until  they 
reached  a  clear  space  at  the  other  end  of  the 
park  which  had  been  reserved  on  purpose  for 
them.  There  they  halted,  and,  when  the  firemen 
had  broken  ranks,  and  the  soldiers  had  been 
brought  to  parade  rest,  their  commanding  offi- 
cer put  them  through  the  manual  of  arms  and 
some  intricate  evolutions  in  the  school  of  the 
company,  giving  his  orders  to  the  bugler  who 
stood  beside  him,  and  not  to  the  company 
itself.  Ralph  and  Loren  were  delighted  with 
every  thing  they  saw,  and  had  many  words  of 


TOM   BIGDEN   AND   HIS   COUSINS.  63 

praise  to  bestow  upon  the  young  bowmen  ;  but 
Tom  was  silent  and  sullen.  He  didn't  like  to 
hear  so  much  cheering  when  none  of  it  was 
intended  for  him.  When  he  was  engaged  in  a 
game  of  ball  he  always  flew  into  a  passion  if  he 
made  an  error,  or  if  any  of  the  other  side  made 
a  play  that  called  forth  applause  from  the  spec- 
tators. He  was  angry  now  ;  but  it  would  have 
puzzled  a  sensible  boy  to  tell  what  reason  he 
had  for  it. 

"That captain,  or  whatever  you  call  him — " 
began  Loren. 

"Master  bowman,"  said  his  father. 

"  Well,  he  is  a  nobby  fellow,  and  that  bugler 
looks  gorgeous  in  his  green  uniform  with  its 
white  facings,"  continued  Loren.  "I  wonder 
who  they  are,  any  way  \ ' ' 

"  Why  don't  you  go  and  inquire  ? "  asked 
Mr.  Farns worth. 

"They  wouldn't  speak  to  you,"  snarled 
Tom.  "  They're  little  upstarts  ;  I  can  tell  that 
from  here  by  the  frills  they  throw  on." 

Loren  and  his  brother  didn't  care  if  they 
were.  The  signs  seemed  to  indicate  that  they 
were  coming  to  Mount  Airy  to  live,  and  if  that 


64  JOE    WAYEING   AT   HOME. 

was  the  case,  they  wanted  to  know  something 
about  the  boys  they  would  have  for  their 
associates.  So  as  soon  as  the  drill  was  brought 
to  an  end  and  the  ranks  were  broken,  they  set 
out  to  scrape  an  acquaintance  with  the 
master  bowman  and  bugler,  Tom  following 
them  with  rather  a  listless,  indifferent  air. 
But  in  reality  he  was  as  eager  as  his  cousins 
were.  Would  he  not  be  willing  to  give  some- 
thing handsome  if  he  could  make  himself  the 
leader  of  a  select  band  like  that  \ 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE   MOUNT  AIRY   TOXOPHILITES. 

LOREN  and  Ralph  Farnsworth,  in  spite 
of  Tom's  predictions  to  the  contrary, 
had  no  trouble  in  scraping  an  acquaintance 
with  the  first  bowman  they  met.  It  was  Arthur 
Hastings,  the  secretary  of  the  company  and  one 
of  the  best  shots  in  it.  They  drew  his  atten- 
tion by  touching  their  hats  to  him  as  he  passed 
(that  is,  the  brothers  did,  Tom  being  in  too  bad 
humor  to  be  civil),  and  Arthur  seeing  that  they 
desired  to  speak  to  him,  stopped  and  opened 
the  conversation  himself. 

"I  know  almost  every  stranger  here  this 
summer,  but  I  don' t  remember  to  have  seen  you 
two  before,"  said  he,  pulling  off  his  white 
gloves  and  extending  a  hand  to  each  of  them. 

"We  came  on  the  early  morning  train," 
replied  Ralph.  "  We  were  just  in  time  to  wit- 
ness your  parade,  which  I  assure  you  was 


66  JOE  WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

something  we  did  not  expect  to  see  up  here  in 
the  woods.  You  bowmen  are  bully  soldiers." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Arthur,  raising  his  hand 
to  his  hat  in  response  to  Tom's  very  slight  nod. 
"  There  must  be  something  in  what  you  say, 
for  every  one  who  comes  up  here  tells  us  the 
same.  The  truth  is,  we  ought  to  be  proficient. 
We  have  been  under  the  strictest  kind  of  a 
drill-master,  and  have  done  plenty  of  hard 
work  since  our  organization  two  years  ago." 

"  What  first  put  the  idea  into  your  heads  \  " 
inquired  Loren.  "You  got  it  out  of  your 
history,  didn't  you  ?  " 

"  And  if  you  did,  why  don't  you  dress  up 
like  Indians  and  adopt  their  system  of  tactics  ? ' ' 
chimed  in  Tom,  who  for  the  moment  forgot 
that  he  had  resolved  that  he  would  not  have  a 
word  to  say  to  any  of  the  bowmen.  "  I  have 
read  that  the  Sioux  have  a  drill  of  their  own 
which  is  so  very  bewildering  that  our  best 
troops  can't  stand  against  it.  It  seems  to  me 
that  you  make  hard  work  of  something  that 
might,  under  different  management,  be  made 
to  yield  you  any  amount  of  pleasure." 

"  We  are  very  well  satisfied  with  the  way 


THE   MOUNT   AIRY   TOXOPIIILITES.  67 

our  affairs  are  managed,"  answered  Arthur, 
who  did  not  quite  like  the  tone  in  which  Tom 
uttered  these  words.  "You  must  know  that 
we  are  not  copying  the  aborigines,  but  the 
Merry  Bowmen  of  Robin  Hood's  time.  Of 
course  we  have  to  work,  for  if  we  didn't  we 
couldn't  give  exhibition  drills  ;  but  somehow 
we  see  plenty  of  fun  with  it  all.  The  idea  was 
suggested  to  us,  not  by  our  histories,  but  by 
an  old  man  who  lives  up  here  in  the  woods," 
added  Arthur,  turning  to  Loren,  at  the  same 
time  jerking  his  thumb  over  his  shoulder  and 
nodding  his  head  toward  an  indefinite  point  of 
the  compass.  If  he  intended  by  these  motions 
to  give  his  auditors  an  idea  of  the  direction  in 
which  the  old  man  referred  to  lived,  he  failed 
completely.  "He  has  seen  better  days.  He 
used  to  belong  to  an  archery  club  in  his  own 
country — that's  England,  you  know — and  I  tell 
you  he  is  a  boss  shot.  He  makes  a  very  good 
living  with  his  bow  now  ;  but  he  is  so  much 
ashamed  of  the  accomplishment — 

"Excuse     me,"     interrupted     Loren.      "I 
don't  see  why  he  should  be  ashamed  of  it." 
"Neither do  I,"  said  Arthur.     "But you  see, 


68  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

there  are  very  few  people  in  this  country  who 
take  any  interest  in  archery,  and  sportsmen, 
as  a  general  thing,  look  upon  the  long  bow  as  a 
toy  ;  but  they  always  change  their  minds  when 
they  see  what  it  can  be  made  to  do  in  the  hands 
of  an  expert.  Now  take  those  two  boys,  for 
example,"  added  Arthur,  directing  Loren's 
attention  to  the  master  bowman  and  his  bugler. 
' '  It  isn'  t  every  rifle  shot  who  can  break  as  many 
glass  balls  in  the  air  as  they  can." 

"Who  are  they?"  inquired  Tom.  "We 
noticed  them  particularly  during  the  drill." 

"  They  are  Wayring  and  Sheldon.  Would 
you  like  to  know  them?  They're  good  fel- 
lows." 

Arthur  looked  at  Tom  as  he  said  this,  but 
Tom  didn'  t  act  as  though  he  heard  him.  He 
wasn't  anxious  to  make  the  acquaintance  of 
boys  who  could  beat  him  at  any  thing,  but  his 
cousins  were  not  so  mean  spirited. 

"  Certainly  we  would,"  replied  Ralph.  "  It 
looks  now  as  though  we  were  coining  here  to 
live  ;  and  if  we  do,  we  should  like  to  know 
something  about  the  boys  into  whose  company 
we  shall  be  thrown." 


THE   MOUNT  AIRY   TOXOPIIILITES.  69 

It  would  seem  from  this  that  Ralph  took  it 
for  granted  that  he  and  his  brother  and  cousin 
would  get  into  the  company  without  the  least 
trouble,  and  he  was  somewhat  surprised  because 
Arthur  did  not  offer  to  take  in  their  names  at 
the  very  next  meeting  ;  but  he  did  not  even  ask 
them  what  their  names  were.  He  led  them  to 
the  place  where  the  master  bowman  and  his 
bugler  were  standing  in  the  midst  of  a  party  of 
their  friends,  and,  as  soon  as  the  opportunity 
was  presented,  introduced  them  as  visitors  who 
thought  it  possible  that  they  might  one  day 
become  permanent  residents  of  the  village. 
Then  he  excused  himself  and  went  off  to  hunt 
up  one  of  the  girls  with  green  and  white  badges, 
who  were  carrying  little  buckets  of  lemonade 
around  among  the  thirsty  firemen  and  soldiers. 

Tom  and  his  cousins  found  the  young  archers 
to  be  very  pleasant  and  agreeable  fellows,  but 
a  trifle  too  independent  to  suit  them.  They 
did  not  seem  to  think  that  Tom  was  better  than 
any  other  boy  because  his  father  was  a  banker, 
and  owned  a  yacht  in  which  he  talked  of  going 
to  Florida  during  the  coming  winter,  and 
neither  did  they  ask  him  and  his  cousins  to  step 


70  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

up  to  the  armory  when  they  fell  into  ranks  and 
marched  up  to  put  away  their  bows  and 
quivers.  They  left  them  standing  in  the  park, 
as  they  did  scores  of  others  who  had  been  talk- 
ing to  them,  and  that  was  a  slight  that  Tom 
said  he  would  not  soon  forget. 

' '  You  are  altogether  too  touchy, ' '  said  Loren, 
with  some  impatience  in  his  tones.  "You 
appear  to  think  that  every  boy  who  lives  out- 
side the  city  limits  must,  of  necessity,  be  a 
greenhorn.  These  fellows  know  as  much  about 
New  London  as  we  do." 

"When  I  become  a  member  of  that  company, 
I  shall  use  my  best  endeavors  to  bring  about  a 
different  state  of  affairs,"  said  Tom,  decidedly. 
"If  they  are  taking  pattern  after  Robin  Hood, 
why  don't  they  pass  their  time  as  he  and  his 
men  did,  lounging  about  in  the  greenwood  under 
the  shade  of  the  trees,  instead  of  parading 
through  the  streets  on  a  hot  day  like  this  ?  I 
don't  see  an y  fun  in  that." 

Nevertheless,  before  he  had  passed  a  week  in 
Mount  Airy,  Tom  Bigden  decided  that  it  was 
just  such  a  place  as  he  had  always  thought  he 
should  like  to  live  in,  and  his  cousins  came  to 


THE   MOUNT  AIRY   TOXOPHILITES.  71 

the  same  conclusion.  So  did  their  fathers  and 
mothers  ;  and  so  it  came  about  that  a  couple  of 
Mr.  Wayring1  s  handsome  cottages,  on  the  other 
side  of  the  lake,  were  rented  until  such  time  as 
Mr.  Farnsworth  and  his  brother-in-law  could 
erect  houses  on  the  grounds  they  had  leased  in 
the  village. 

Tom  and  his  cousins  lost  no  time  in  getting 
ready  to  enjoy  themselves.  Before  another 
week  had  passed  away,  they  had  the  finest  sail 
and  row  boats,  and  the  most  expensive  canoes 
on  the  lake  ;  and  in  anticipation  of  their  imme- 
diate admittance  to  the  ranks  of  the  Toxoph- 
ilites,  they  sent  for  a  supply  of  bows  and 
arrows  and  ordered  uniforms  of  their  tailor. 
But  the  old  saying,  that  there's  many  a  slip, 
held  good  in  their  case  ;  and  this  was  the  way 
they  found  it  out : 

One  afternoon  they  and  their  parents 
were  invited  to  a  lawn  party,  at  which  the 
Toxophilites,  girls  as  well  as  boys,  appeared 
in  force  and  in  uniform,  the  girls  wear- 
ing white  dresses,  green  sashes  and  badges, 
and  light  straw  hats,  turned  up  at  the  side 
and  fastened  by  a  tiny  silver  arrow,  which,  at 


72  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

the  same  time,  held  in  place  the  long  black 
plume  of  the  company.  Tom  declared  that 
they  looked  stunning  ;  and  when  he  saw  how 
they  sent  their  arrows  into  the  target,  hitting 
the  gold  almost  as  often  as  they  missed  it,  and 
played  croquet  and  skipped  about  the  lawn 
tennis  ground,  he  added  that  he  had  never 
been  to  such  a  party  before,  nor  seen  hand- 
somer girls.  He  was  going  to  apply  for  admis- 
sion to  the  club,  and  he  wasn't  going  to  waste 
any  time  in  doing  it,  either.  With  this  object 
in  view,  he  hurried  off  to  find  Arthur  Hast- 
ings. 

"  I  don't  wonder  that  you  fellows  are  happy 
here,"  was  the  way  in  which  he  began  the  con- 
versation. 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  we  see  as  much  pleasure  as 
falls  to  the  lot  of  most  people,"  answered 
Arthur,  "but  we  have  any  amount  of  hard 
work  as  well." 

"  I  never  see  you  do  any,"  said  Tom. 

"That's  because  you  are  not  acquainted 
with  us  or  our  ways.  I  drilled  until  after  ten 
o'clock  last  night,  and  spent  this  forenoon  in 
working  in  the  garden  and  wrestling  with  my 


THE   MOUNT   AIRY  TOXOPHILITES.  73 

geometry ;  getting  ready  for  next  term  you 
know." 

"  Do  you  study  and  work  during  vacation?  " 
exclaimed  Tom,  who  had  never  heard  of  such 
a  piece  of  foolishness  before. 

"  Of  course  I  do  ;  we  all  do." 

'Tm  glad  that  I  haven't  such  parents  as  you 
seem  to  have,"  said  Tom,  rudely. 

"  Our  parents  have  nothing  whatever  to  do 
with  it.  It's  the  rule  of  the  company." 

"That  you  shall  work  during  vacation?" 
cried  Tom. 

"That  we  shall  keep  busy  at  something — yes. 
We  are  told  that  an  idle  brain  is  the  workshop 
of  a  certain  old  chap  who  shall  be  nameless, 
but  we  go  further,  and  hold  that  there  is  no 
such  thing  as  an  idle  brain.  It  is  at  work  all 
the  time  during  our  waking  hours,  and  some- 
times when  we  are  asleep — dreams,  you  know — 
and  if  it  is  not  busy  with  good  things,  it  is 
ready  to  take  in  bad  ones.  Have  you  seen  any 
boys  loafing  around  the  corners  since  you  have 
been  here?  Then  you  can  bet  your  bottom 
dollar  that  they  didn't  belong  to  us." 

"Well,  when  I  get  to  be  a  member  of  the 


74  JOE   WAY  RING  AT   HOME. 

company,  I  shall  vote  down  all  such  rules  as 
that,"  said  Tom  to  himself.  "  A  fellow  needs 
a  little  time  to  be  lazy,  and  I  shall  take  it,  too, 
without  asking  any  body's  consent.  Then 
aloud  he  asked,  as  if  the  thought  had  just 
occurred  to  him  :  "  By  the  way,  when  do  you 
hold  your  next  meeting  ? ' ' 

"  Thursday  night." 

' '  Well,  take  in  our  names,  will  you  \  Mine 
and  my  cousins'." 

"  I  should  be  glad  to  oblige  you,  but  I  can't 
do  it." 

"You  can't  do  it  ?"  said  Tom,  who  was  angry 
in  an  instant.  "  Why  not,  I'd  like  to  know  ?  " 

"There  are  two  reasons.  In  the  first  place, 
you  have  not  been  here  long  enough — we  don't 
know  any  thing  about  you." 

"If  that  isn't  a  little  ahead  of  anything  I 
ever  heard  of  I  wouldn't  say  so  !  "  exclaimed 
Tom,  as  soon  as  his  rage  would  permit  him  to 
speak.  "  My  father  is— 

"  We  don't  care  who  or  what  your  father  is  ; 
we  must  know  what  you  are.  In  the  second 
place,  our  membership  is  limited,  and  the  boys' 
roster  is  full." 


THE   MOUNT   AIRY   TOXOPHILITES.  75 

"Couldn't  you  suspend  the  rules  for 
once?" 

' '  That's  no  rule.  It  is  a  part  of  the  constitu- 
tion." 

"  Well,  couldn't  you  amend  it?" 

"  No,  we  couldn't.  It  has  been  tried  in  the 
case  of  one  of  the  best  fellows  in  town — or, 
rather,  he  was  one  of  the  best  until  he  found 
that  he  couldn't  wind  eighty  boys  and  girls 
around  his  finger,  and  then  he  turned  against 
us  and  stands  ready  to-day  to  do  us  all  the 
harm  he  can." 

"  And  you  will  find,  to  your  cost,  that  my 
cousins  and  I  will  do  the  same  thing,"  thought 
Tom,  and  it  was  all  he  could  do  to  keep  from 
uttering  the  words  aloud.  "Things  have  come 
to  a  pretty  pass  when  a  lot  of  Yahoos  can  make 
gentlemen  knuckle  to  them.  Who  is  this 
boy?" 

"His  name  is  Prime  ;  but  I  tell  you,  as  a 
friend,  that  you  must  not  have  any  thing  to  do 
with  him  if  you  want  to  get  into  the  company. 
There  are  half  a  dozen  of  our  fellows  going 
away  this  fall,  and  then,  if  you  feel  like  it,  you 
can  make  a  try  for  membership.  Perhaps  I 


76  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

shall  be  able  to  help  you  to  the  extent  of  one 
vote,  though  I  can't  promise  to  do  so." 

"How  about  the  yacht  and  canoe  clubs?" 
said  Tom,  with  something  like  a  sneer  in  his 
tones.  "  No  doubt  they  are  full,  too." 

"  Oh,  no,  they're  not.  Any  good  fellow  who 
owns  a  boat  or  who  intends  to  get  one,  can 
come  in  there.  Are  you  and  your  cousins 
good  swimmers  \  Then  why  don't  you  join  us 
and  enter  for  the  up-set  race  that  will  come  off 
next  month." 

"  I  don't  know  what  kind  of  a  race  that 
is." 

"It'll  not  take  long  to  tell  you.  You  see 
the  contestants  come  out  clad  in  some  light 
stuff  that  won't  hold  much  water,  and  when 
they  are  well  started  in  the  race,  a  signal  is 
given,  generally  the  blast  of  a  bugle,  where- 
upon each  fellow  must  overturn  his  boat,  climb 
into  her  again  and  go  ahead  as  if  nothing  had 
happened.  The  one  who  crosses  the  line  first, 
is  of  course  the  winner." 

'  Who  among  you  is  the  best  at  that  kind 
of  a  race  ?  " 

"Well,"  replied  Arthur,  with  some  hesita- 


THE   MOUNT   AIRY   TOXOPIIILITES.  77 

tion,  "it  is  nip  and  tuck  between  Wayring, 
Sheldon  and  me." 

"  I  expected  as  much,"  said  Tom,  to  himself. 
"Wayring,  Sheldon  and  Hastings  are  better 
than  the  rest  at  every  thing.  I  shall  enter  for 
that  or  some  other  race,  and  if  I  don't  take  the 
conceit  out  of  all  of  you,  I  shall  never  forgive 
myself.  Then  it  would  not  be  of  any  use  for 
me  to  try  to  get  into  the  Toxophilites  ? "  he 
said,  aloud. 

"Not  the  slightest.  I'll  tip  you  the  wink 
when  there  is  an  opening,  and  you  can  apply 
or  not,  just  as  you  think  best.  We  never  ask 
any  body  to  join  us." 

"But  you  asked  me  to  join  the  canoe  and 
yacht  clubs." 

"  I  know  it,  and  I  had  a  right  to.  The  three 
organizations  are  governed  by  entirely  different 
rules.  There's  the  bugle,"  said  Arthur,  catch- 
ing up  his  bow  which  lay  on  the  rustic  bench 
on  which  he  and  Tom  had  been  sitting  during 
this  conversation.  "I  must  go  and  shoot  as 
soon  as  I  can  find  my  girl.  Come  on,  and  see 
us  punch  the  gold  three  times  out  of  five." 

"  I  can't,"  replied  Tom.     "  I  must  hunt  up 


78  JOE   WAYRIJSTG   AT   HOME. 

the  hostess,  tell  her  I  have  had  a  very  pleasant 
time  and  all  that,  and  bid  her  good-by.  I  have 
another  engagement. ' ' 

This  was  not  quite  in  accordance  with  the 
facts  of  the  case.  Tom  had  no  other  engage- 
ment, but  he  wanted  to  go  off  by  himself, 
or  in  company  with  Loren  and  Ralph,  and  give 
full  vent  to  his  feelings  of  disappointment  and 
rage.  He  shook  his  fist  at  Arthur  when  the 
latter  turned  his  back  and  hurried  away,  and 
it  would  have  afforded  him  infinite  satisfaction 
if  he  could  have  followed  him  up  and  knocked 
him  down.  He  found  his  cousins  after  a  while, 
and  although  they  stood  in  the  midst  of  a  jolly 
group  and  were  laughing  gaily,  and  appeared 
to  be  enjoying  themselves,  Tom  was  well  enough 
acquainted  with  them  to  tell  at  a  glance  that 
they  were  as  angry  as  he  was. 

"  Sorry  to  break  in  upon  so  pleasant  a  gather- 
ing as  this  one  seems  to  be,"  said  Tom,  ap- 
proaching the  group,  one  of  whom  was  the 
young  lady  in  whose  honor  the  party  was  given, 
"  but  our  time  is  up." 

"Why,  Mr.  Bigden,  you  don't  mean  to  say 
that  you  are  going  away  so  soon,  and  before 


THE   MOUNT   AIRY   TOXOPHILITES.  79 

supper,  too  ? "  exclaimed  the  young  lady,  who 
looked  so  charming  in  her  neat  uniform  that 
Tom  had  half  a  mind  to  go  back  and  pound 
Arthur  Hastings  for  telling  him  that  he  couldn't 
become  a  Toxophilite  at  once. 

"Must — can't  be  helped,"  answered  Tom, 
giving  his  cousins  a  look  which  they  under- 
stood. "  We  are  indebted  to  you  for  a  very 
pleasant  afternoon,  Miss  Arden." 

"I  don't  believe  you  have  enjoyed  yourselves 
one  bit,"  exclaimed  the  fair  archer.  "If  you 
have,  why  do  you  go  away  so  early  ?  The  next 
time  you  attend  one  of  our  lawn  parties,  be 
sure  and  arrange  your  business  so  that  your 
other  engagements  can  wait." 

After  a  little  more  badinage  of  this  sort,  Tom 
and  his  cousins  lifted  their  hats  and  walked  off. 
As  soon  as  the  front  gate  had  closed  behind 
them,  the  expression  on  their  faces  changed  as 
if  by  magic,  and  the  three  boys  turned  toward 
one  another  with  clenched  lists  and  flashing 
eyes.  After  each  one  had  glared  savagely  at 
his  neighbor  as  if  he  were  going  to  strike  him, 
they  all  put  their  hands  in  their  pockets  and 
moved  away.  Tom  was  the  first  to  speak. 


80  JOE   WAYRING   AT  HOME. 

"  Now  that  I  look  back  at  it,  I  don't  see  how 
I  kept  my  hands  off  that  Hastings  boy  while 
he  was  talking  so  insolently  to  me,"  said  Tom. 
"He  told  me  that  he  didn't  care  who  or  what 
my  father  was,  but  I  couldn't  get  into  the 
archery  club,  and  that  was  all  there  was  about 
it.  They  must  stick  to  their  constitution,  no 
matter  if  the  world  goes  to  pieces  on  account  of 
their  obstinacy.  He  asked  me  to  join  the  canoe 
and  yacht  clubs,  but  said  they  never  asked 
any  body  to  apply  for  admission  to  the  Tox- 
ophilites." 

"I  guess  Ralph  and  I  know  just  what  he 
said  to  you  first  and  last,"  remarked  Loren, 
"for  Sheldon  talked  to  us  in  about  the  same 
way.  We  are  going  to  enter  for  the  upset 
race." 

"I  thought  you  would,"  answered  Tom, 
"and  so  I  made  up  my  mind  to  go  in  too. 
We'll  make  it  our  business  to  see  that  neither 
Sheldon  nor  Way  ring  wins  that  or  any  other 
race.  If  we  find  that  we  can't  beat  them  by 
fair  means,  and  I  have  an  idea  that  I  can 
paddle  a  boat  about  as  fast  as  the  next  boy, 
although  I  never  got  into  one  until  last  week, 


THE   MOUNT   AIEY   TOXOPHILITES.  81 

we'll  foul  them,  and  sink  their  boats  so  deep 
that  they  will  never  come  up  again." 

"Loren  and  I  talked  that  matter  over,  and 
resolved  upon  the  same  thing,"  said  Ralph. 
"Did  Hastings  tell  you  any  thing  about  a 
George  Prime  who  is  down  on  them  because 
they  would  not  take  his  name  before  the 
Toxophilites  ?  Sheldon  told  us  to  give  him  a 
wide  berth,  but  Loren  and  I  thought  we  would 
do  as  we  pleased  about  that." 

"That's  just  what  I  thought,"  answered 
Tom.  "I  think  it  would  be  a  good  plan  to 
hunt  him  up  the  very  first  thing  we  do.  If  he 
has  reason  to  dislike  Wayring  and  his  friends, 
we  might  induce  him  to  strike  hands  with  us." 

"That  was  our  idea,"  said  Ralph.  "It 
can't  be  possible  that  Prime  is  the  only  boy  in 
this  village  who  does  not  like  Wayring  and  the 
rest,  and  if  we  find  them  to  be  the  right  sort, 
and  can  raise  enough  of  them,  what's  the 
reason  we  can't  get  up  a  club  of  our  own  ? " 

"That's  another  idea,"  said  Tom,  who  was 
delighted  with  it.  "I  wish  I  had  thought  to 
ask  Hastings  where  Prime  lives." 

"I  know  where  his  father's  drug-store  is,  for 


82  JOE  WAYRING  AT  HOME. 

I  saw  the  sign  over  the  door,"  said  Loren. 
"  Let's  go  down  there  and  get  a  cigar,  and  trust 
to  our  wits  to  learn  something  about  him." 

The  others  agreeing  to  this  proposition, 
Loren  led  the  way  to  the  drug-store,  and  the 
three  stopped  in  front  of  the  show-case  near 
the  door  in  which  the  cigars  were  kept. 

"That's  Prime,  and  I  know  it,"  whispered 
Tom,  as  a  dashing  young  fellow,  who  was 
seated  at  the  further  end  of  the  store  reading  a 
paper,  came  up  to  attend  to  their  wants.  "  He 
looks  to  me  like  a  chap  who  isn't  in  the  habit 
of  allowing  himself  to  be  imposed  upon,  and 
that's  the  sort  we  want  to  run  with." 

"See-gahs?  Yes,  sir,"  said  the  clerk. 
"  Being  from  the  city,  you  want  the  best,  of 
course.  There  you  are,  sir.  Genuine  im- 
ported." 

"How  do  you  know  that  we  are  from  the 
city  ? "  inquired  Loren,  as  he  made  a  selection 
from  the  box  that  was  placed  on  the  show-case. 

"Because  I  was  a  city  boy  myself,  until 
father  took  it  into  his  head  that  he  wanted  to 
spend  a  summer  at  Mount  Airy,"  replied  the 
clerk.  "  That  was  a  bad  move  lor  me,  for  we 


THE   MOUNT   AIRY   TOXOPHILITES.  83 

have  been  here  ever  since.  Besides,  in  a  little 
place  like  this,  every  body  knows  more  about 
your  business  than  you  do  yourself.  I  know 
who  you  are,  and  where  you  came  from,  and 
all  about  it." 

"Then  it  was  a  bad  change  for  you,  was  it  ? " 
said  Ralph.  "You  don't  like  to  live  here? 
Neither  do  we." 

"I  don't  blame  you,"  said  the  clerk. 
"  Wait  until  you  get  acquainted  with  some  of 
these  old-timers  and  find  out  what  an  exclusive 
lot  they  are,  and  you  will  dislike  it  worse  than 
you  do  now.  There  are  a  few  of  them,  espe- 
cially the  Toxophilites,  as  they  call  themselves, 
who  try  to  monopolize  all  the  fun  there  is 
going." 

"  Why  don't  you  join  them  ? "  asked  Tom. 

"  Because  they  won't  let  me — that's  why." 

"  Then  you  must  be  George  Prime." 

"That's  my  name,  and  you  are  Tom Bigden, 
and  you  two  are  Loren  and  Ralph  Farns worth." 

"You've  hit  it,"  answered  Tom.  "They 
wouldn't  take  us  in  either.  They  told  us  so 
not  more  than  an  hour  ago.  Why  didn't  you 
go  to  the  party?  " 


84  JOE  WAYRING  AT  HOME. 

"  Because  they  didn't  invite  me,"  said  Prime, 
angrily.  "  I  don't  get  invitations  to  any  thing 
any  more.  I  showed  rather  too  much  spirit  to 
suit  them,  and  so  they  dropped  me." 

"Probably  they  will  do  the  same  by  us," 
said  Loren.  "We  have  always  been  in  the 
habit  of  doing  as  we  pleased,  and  we  don't 
intend  to  change  our  mode  of  life  for  the  sake 
of  getting  into  an  archery  club  that  makes  its 
members  drill  until  ten  o'clock  when  they 
might  see  more  fun  in  playing  billiards.  There 
will  be  some  vacancies  this  fall,  and  then  we 
shall  make  another  attempt  to  get  in." 

' '  Is  that  what  you  have  made  up  your  minds 
to  ?  Well,  now,  look  here."  As  Prime  said 
this,  he  came  out  from  behind  the  counter  and 
stood  in  the  open  door,  looking  up  and  down 
the  street.  "You  must  begin  by  doing  your 
smoking  in  secret,"  he  continued,  as  he  came 
back  and  motioned  to  the  boys  to  follow  him 
toward  the  rear  of  the  store. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  the  Toxophilites 
look  with  disfavor  upon  a  good  cigar?" 
demanded  Tom. 

"I  do,  indeed.     You  mustn't  use  tobacco  in 


THE   MOUNT   AIRY   TOXOPHILITES.  85 

any  form,  and  you  must  be  temperate  in  all 
things — in  eating,  drinking  and  talking. 
They'll  fine  you  if  you  use  any  language  while 
you  are  out  with  your  companions,  that  you 
wouldn't  use  if  your  mother  or  sister  was 
present.  Now  sit  down  here,  and  if  you  see 
any  body  coming,  you  can  put  your  cigars  out 
of  sight." 

"But  we  don't  know  all  the  members  of  the 
club,"  said  Loren. 

"No  difference.  Don't  let  any  one  see  you 
with  a  weed  in  your  mouth.  If  you  do,  good- 
by  to  all  your  chances  of  being  a  Toxophilite." 

"Why,  it's  the  meanest  little  town  I  ever 
heard  of !  "  exclaimed  Ralph,  who  was  greatly 
surprised  as  well  as  disgusted.  "  I  didn't  sup- 
pose that  there  were  any  such  boys  in  this 
wicked  world.  I  thought  they  all  lived  in 
Utopia." 

"  So  did  I,  until  I  found  some  of  them  right 
here  in  Mount  Airy,"  answered  Prime.  "  The 
girls  are  at  the  bottom  of  it — you  know  that 
they  are  never  easy  unless  they  are  kicking  up 
a  row  of  some  kind — and  if  I  had  been  a  mem- 
ber of  the  club  when  it  was  organized,  wouldn't 


86  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

I  have  worked  hard  to  keep  them  out  ?  I  was 
very  anxious  to  get  into  it  once,  but  I  don't 
believe  I  care  to  be  one  of  them  now." 

Tom  and  his  cousins  began  to  feel  the  same 
way. 


CHAPTER  V. 

TOM  INTERVIEWS  THE  SQUATTER. 

:'  ~Y  DON'T  believe  I  care  to  be  one  of  them 

JL  now,"  repeated  Prime,  who,  being  a 
pretty  good  judge  of  character,  knew  that  he 
ran  no  risk  in  speaking  freely  in  the  presence  of 
the  three  boys  before  him.  "  I  wish  I  could  see 
their  old  organization  knocked  higher  than  the 
moon  ;  or  else  I  wish  that  a  few  more  new  fel- 
lows of  the  right  sort  would  come  in,  so  that 
we  could  have  a  club  of  our  own." 

"  I  was  about  to  suggest  that  very  thing,'' 
said  Tom.  "  It  can't  be  possible  that  Wayring 
and  his  cronies  have  got  every  boy  in  town  un- 
der their  thumbs." 

"Not  by  a  long  shot!"  exclaimed  Prime. 
"  There  are  ten  or  a  dozen  besides  myself  who 
do  not  bow  to  them." 

"And  my  cousins  and  I  add  three  to  the 
number,"  replied  Tom.  "That's  enough  for  a 


88  JOE   WAYRING  AT   HOME. 

hunting  club.  But  we  will  talk  about  that 
at  some  future  time.  Do  you  belong  to  the 
other  clubs?" 

Prime  replied  that  he  did,  adding  that  any 
body  could  get  into  them,  for  there  was  no  limit 
to  the  membership. 

"The  canoe  and  yacht  clubs  are  getting  large 
enough  to  be  unwieldy,"  said  he.  "I  know  of 
a  good  many  boys  who  are  not  satisfied  with 
the  way  things  are  managed,  and  it  wouldn't 
surprise  meat  all  if  there  should  be  a  split  some 
day.  There  are  a  few  of  us  who  are  talking  it 
up  as  fast  as  we  can.  We  are  getting  tired  of 
seeing  the  same  old  tickets  elected  every  year, 
and  think  it  high  time  we  had  a  change." 

"  Is  Wayring  much  of  a  canoeist  ? "  asked 
Tom. 

' '  Indeed,  he  is.  He  can  walk  away  from  any 
one  around  here,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  and  in  fact, 
there's  hardly  any  thing  that  boy  can't  do.  I 
would  give  almost  any  thing  to  see  him  beaten, 
and  I— say  !  "  exclaimed  Prime,  a  bright  idea 
striking  him.  "Are  you  fellows  canoeists?" 

"  My  cousins  are  ;  but  I  can't  say  as  much 
for  myself,"  answered  Tom.  "I  have  always 


TOM  INTERVIEWS   THE   SQUATTER.  89 

been  called  a  very  fair  sculler,  and  after  I  learn 
how  to  balance  a  canoe,  I  know  I  have  muscle 
enough  to  make  her  get  through  the  water. 
Hastings  led  me  to  believe  that  it  was  a  tight 
squeak  between  Wayring,  Sheldon  and  him- 
self." 

"Aw!"  said  Prime,  in  a  tone  of  disgust. 
"  You  let  Hastings  alone  for  shoving  in  a  good 
word  for  himself  as  often  as  the  opportunity 
offers.  He  never  won  the  first  prize  in  his  life. 
Joe  Wayring  walks  away  with  it  every  time. 
Suppose  you  fellows  come  in  and  see  if  you 
can' t  make  Joe  lower  his  broad  pennant  for  a 
while.  If  you  find  that  you  can' t  beat  him — 
and,  although  I  am  no  friend  of  his,  I  tell  you 
plainly  that  it  will  be  the  hardest  piece  of  work 
you  ever  undertook — you  might  get  in  his  way 
and  let  him  foul  you,  you  know.  I  tried  my 
level  best  to  do  it  last  year,  but  he  was  too 
smart  for  me." 

By  this  time  it  was  plain  to  all  the  boys  that 
they  understood  one  another  perfectly.  The 
truth  of  the  matter  was,  that  Joe  Wayring  and 
some  of  his  particular  friends  had  won  too 
many  honors,  and  made  themselves  altogether 


90  JOE   WAYRINO   AT   HOME. 

too  popular  in  the  community.  These  boys 
were  angry  about  it,  because  they  wanted  to  be 
first  in  every  thing  themselves.  Tom  Bigden 
and  his  cousins  had  fully  intended  to  take 
Mount  Airy  by  storm,  and  to  establish  them- 
selves at  once  as  leaders  among  their  new 
acquaintances  ;  and  their  failure  to  accomplish 
their  object  bewildered  as  well  as  enraged  them. 
If  they  had  known  how  to  go  about  it,  they 
would  have  disgraced  Joe  Wayring  before  he 
saw  the  sun  rise  again.  So  would  George 
Prime.  Of  course  they  did  not  say  it  in  so 
many  words,  but  that  was  what  each  boy  told 
himself. 

Before  Tom  and  his  cousins  left  the  store  they 
entered  into  an  alliance  with  Prime,  both  offen- 
sive and  defensive,  and  talked  over  various  plans 
for  annoying  the  boys  who  had  unwittingly 
incurred  their  displeasure.  If  they  could  not 
injure  Joe  and  his  friends  in  any  other  way, 
they  could  put  them  to  some  trouble  and 
expense,  and  this  they  resolved  to  do  the  very 
first  good  chance  they  got.  They  did  not  decide 
upon  any  particular  course  of  action,  but  Prime 
said  that  if  Tom  and  his  cousins  would  come 


TOM   INTERVIEWS   THE   SQUATTER.  91 

to  the  store  the  next  day,  he  would  introduce 
them  to  a  lot  of  good  fellows  who  did  not  like 
Joe  and  his  "clique"  any  too  well,  and  who 
would  be  glad  to  be  revenged  upon  them  for 
some  real  or  imaginary  grievance. 

' '  I  see  very  clearly  that  there  is  a  good  deal  of 
feeling  against  Wayring  and  his  followers,  and 
if  we  handle  it  rightly  we  can  make  it  work  to 
our  advantage,"  remarked  Tom,  as  he  and  his 
cousins  walked  slowly  homeward.  "It  is  a 
wonder  to  me  that  something  hasn't  been  done 
to  him  before  this  time.  What  they  lack  is  a 
leader — some  one  to  propose  a  plan  and  go 
ahead  with  it." 

"  Well,  they  have  found  him  at  last — three 
of  him,"  said  Loren.  "  I  always  was  opposed 
to  living  in  a  little  country  town,  because  you 
invariably  find  fellows  there  who  think  they 
know  more  than  any  body  else — " 

"And  plenty  of  others  who  are  willing  to 
uphold  them  in  that  belief,"  chimed  in  Ralph. 
' '  I  say,  don' t  let' s  have  any  thing  to  do  with  the 
Toxophilites.  Let' s  get  up  a  club  of  our  own 
and  manage  it  as  we  see  proper." 

"I  am    in    favor    of  that,"    replied    Tom 


92  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

"  We'll  have  no  fines  and  drills,  for  one  thing, 
and  neither  will  we  admit  any  girls  who  stick 
up  their  noses  at  a  good  cigar.  But  there  is 
one  thing  we  must  not  forget  to  do  when  we 
meet  those  fellows  at  the  store  to-morrow.  If 
we  decide  upon  any  thing,  we  must  be  careful 
how  we  carry  it  out.  If  we  are  foolish  enough 
to  let  Joe  and  the  rest  know  that  we  are  down 
on  them,  and  that  we  intend  to  do  them  all  the 
injury  we  can,  they  will  make  things  very 
unpleasant  for  us.  We  don't  want  them  to 
serve  us  as  they  have  served  Prime,  and  read 
us  entirely  out  of  their  good  books — 

"  And  that  is  just  what  they  will  do  if  they 
see  us  in  Prime's  company,"  interrupted  Loren. 
"Sheldon  said  so." 

"  There  is  no  need  that  they  should  ever  see 
us  in  his  company,"  replied  Tom.  "  Our  best 
plan  would  be  to  hold  all  our  meetings  in 
secret— 

"And  keep  our  organization,  if  we  have  any, 
a  secret,"  chimed  in  Ralph. 

"That's  the  idea,"  said  Tom.  "Then  we 
can  do  as  much  damage  as  we  please  in  the 
way  of  setting  boats  adrift,  and  so  on,  and 


INTERVIEWS   THE   SQUATTER.  93 

Joe  and  his  followers  will  be  at  loss  to  know 
where  the  annoyance  comes  from.  We  mustn't 
forget  to  speak  to  the  fellows  about  that  to- 
morrow." 

Unfortunately  an  incident  happened  that 
very  afternoon  which  made  it  comparatively 
easy  for  the  three  schemers  to  carry  out  the 
plans  they  proposed.  It  was,  in  fact,  a  fight 
between  a  squatter  and  the  Mount  Airy 
authorities,  to  whom  he  had  made  himself 
obnoxious.  Tom  and  his  cousins  were 
witnesses  of  the  preliminary  skirmish,  that  is, 
the  serving  of  the  notice  of  ejectment,  and 
when  they  heard  a  full  report  of  the  matter 
from  one  of  the  boys  to  whom  Prime  introduced 
them,  their  delight  was  almost  unbounded. 
Tom  danced  a  horn-pipe  in  the  excess  of  his 
joy,  and  repeatedly  declared  that  nothing 
could  have  happened  that  was  so  well  calcu- 
lated to  further  their  designs.  It  came  about 
in  this  way : 

Mr.  Wayring's  summer  cottages  were  all 
located  on  the  opposite  shore  of  the  lake.  The 
road  .that  led  to  them  ran  down  the  hill, 
around  the  foot  of  the  lake,  and  through  a 


94  JOE   WAYKING  AT  HOME. 

little  settlement  which  bore  the  euphonious 
name  of  "  Stumptown."  Why  this  name  had 
been  given  to  it  no  one  seemed  to  know.  It 
certainly  was  not  appropriate,  for  there  was 
not  a  stump  to  be  seen  in  any  of  its  well-culti- 
vated gardens,  from  which  the  Mount  Airy 
and  Lambert  Houses  drew  their  supplies  of 
vegetables  and  small  fruits. 

The  male  members  of  this  little  community 
were  licensed  guides  and  boatmen — the  only 
ones,  in  fact,  who  had  the  right  to  serve  the  guests 
of  the  hotels  in  that  capacity.  They  lived  on 
Mr.  Wayring'  s  land,  and  in  neat  little  cottages 
which  the  liberal  owner  had  erected  for  their 
especial  benefit.  When  the  season  was  over 
and  the  guests  returned  to  their  homes  in  the 
city,  these  men  hunted  and  trapped  in  the 
mountains,  and  entertained  the  village  boys, 
with  whom  they  were  great  favorites,  and  who 
often  invaded  their  humble  abodes  during  the 
long  winter  evenings,  with  thrilling  and  amus- 
ing tales  of  life  in  the  wilderness.  They  taught 
the  boys  woodcraft,  and  made  themselves  so 
useful  in  other  ways,  that  the  young  Nimrods 
of  the  village  had  never  been  able  to  decide 


TOM   INTERVIEWS   THE  SQUATTER.  95 

how  they  could    manage  to  get  on  without 
them. 

Into  this  settlement  there  came  one  day  an 
unkempt  man,  with  a  red  nose  and  a  very 
forbidding  face,  who  brought  with  him  a  large 
punt,  into  which  he  had  crowded  all  his 
worldly  treasures,  including  his  wife  and  two 
stalwart  sons,  not  one  of  whom  was  one  whit 
more  prepossessing  than  the  husband  and 
father.  Without  saying  a  word  to  any  body 
the  red-nosed  man,  who  answered  to  the  name  of 
Matt  Coyle,  took  possession  of  a  piece  of  ground 
that  had  been  cleared  but  not  fenced  in.  and 
began  the  erection  of  a  shanty  with  boards 
which  formed  a  part  of  the  punt's  cargo. 
While  he  and  his  sons  were  at  work  Mr.  Hast- 
ings, who  was  one  of  the  village  trustees,  rode 
by.  He  did  not  at  all  1  ike  the  appearance  of  the 
new-comers,  but  he  had  nothing  to  say  to  them. 
There  was  room  for  more  guides  and  boat- 
men, and  Matt  and  his  family  might  turn  out 
better  than  they  looked.  If  they  proved  to  be 
honest,  industrious  people  who  were  willing  to 
work  for  a  living,  Mr.  Hastings  was  perfectly 
willing  that  they  should  stay,  and  he  knew 


96  JOE  WAYRING  AT   HOME. 

that  Mr.  Wayring  would  provide  a  house  and 
garden  for  them.  If  they  proved  to  be  objec- 
tionable in  any  way,  it  would  be  an  easy 
matter  to  get  rid  of  them. 

Shortly  after  Mr.  Hastings  passed  out  of 
sight  Matt  Coyle  wanted  a  drink ;  and  he 
found  it — not  in  the  lake,  or  in  the  ice-cold 
spring  from  which  the  guides  obtained  their 
supply  of  water,  but  in  a  jug  which  he  fished 
out  from  a  lot  of  miscellaneous  rubbish  in  the 
punt.  After  he  had  quenched  his  thirst  he 
passed  the  jug  over  to  his  wife  and  boys,  the 
whole  proceeding  being  witnessed  by  Nat 
Clark,  the  oldest  man  and  best  guide  and  boat- 
man in  the  settlement,  who  was  getting  his 
skiff  ready  to  take  out  a  fishing  party  from 
one  of  the  hotels. 

' '  Look  a  yer,  friend, ' '  said  Nat.  '  'What  you 
got  into  that  there  jug  o'  your'n  ? " 

"  The  best  kind  o'  whisky,"  answered  Matt 
Coyle,  cheerfully.  "  An'  I've  got  as  much  as 
half  a  bar'  1  more  in  the  punt.  Want  a  drop  \ ' ' 

"Not  much,"  replied  Nat,  emphatically. 
"  An'  if  you're  goin'  to  stay  about  yer,  you'd 
best  knock  in  the  head  of  that  there  bar'l  an' 


TOM   INTERVIEWS   THE   SQUATTEK.  97 

smash  that  there  jug  without  was  tin'  no 
time." 

' '  What  fur  ? ' '  demanded  the  red-nosed  man, 
who  was  very  much  surprised. 

"  'Cause  why,  it's  agin  the  law  fur  stuff  of 
that  kind  to  be  brung  into  these  yer  grounds." 

"  Who  made  that  there  law  ?  " 

"  The  trustees.  You'd  best  do  as  I  tell  you, 
'cause  if  they  find  out  that  you've  got  it,  they'll 
spill  the  last  drop  of  it  fur  you." 

"They  will,  eh?"  exclaimed  Matt.  "I'd 
like  to  see  'em  try  it  on.  They'd  better  not 
try  to  boss  me,  'cause  me  an'  my  boys  have 
got  rifles  into  the  punt,  an'  we  know  how  to 
use  'em  too.  Them  there  trustees  ain't  got 
no  more  right  to  say  what  I  shall  drink  than 
they  have  to  say  what  I  shall  eat.  Besides, 
how  are  they  goin'  to  find  out  that  I  have  got 
it?" 

"  /shan't  tell  'em,  'cause I've  got  enough  to 
do  without  botherin'  my  head  with  other 
f oiks' s  business,"  answered  the  guide,  who 
knew  by  the  tone  in  which  they  were  uttered 
that  there  was  a  threat  hidden  under  Matt 
Coyle's  last  words.  "But  you  can't  keep  it 


98  JOE   WAYRING  AT   HOME. 

hid  from  'em,  an'  they're  bound  to  find  it 
out." 

And  sure  enough  they  did. 

Having  built  his  shanty  and  moved  his 
household  goods  into  it,  Matt  Coyle  and  his 
boys  presented  themselves  before  the  manager 
of  the  Lambert  House  and  demanded  employ- 
ment as  guides  and  boatmen.  That  function- 
ary, who  did  not  know  that  there  were  any 
such  disreputable  looking  people  in  town, 
gazed  at  them  in  surprise,  and  told  them 
rather  bluntly  that  he  had  nothing  for  them 
to  do.  The  manager  of  the  Mount  Airy  House 
told  them  the  same  thing.  The  hotel  guides 
were  neat  in  person  and  respectful  in  demeanor, 
and  Matt  and  his  boys  were  just  the  reverse. 
The  managers  would  not  insult  their  guests  by 
giving  them  boats  manned  by  such  persons  as 
they  were.  Matt  and  his  boys  were  angry,  of 
course,  and  after  wasting  the  best  portion  of 
the  day  grumbling  over  their  hard  luck,  they 
put  the  jug  into  the  punt  and  started  out  on  a 
lishing  excursion.  They  came  back  with  a  good 
string,  but  the  hotels  and  boarding-houses 
refused  to  purchase,  because  their  guests,  with 


99 

the  assistance  of  the  guides,  kept  the  tables 
well  supplied. 

Things  went  on  in  this  way  for  a  month, 
during  which  Matt  and  his  boys  had  twice  been 
thrust  into  the  calaboose  for  attempting  to 
"  run  the  town  "  to  suit  themselves,  and  at  the 
end  of  that  time  the  trustees  decided  that  he  and 
his  family  were  of  no  use  in  Mount  Airy,  and 
that  they  had  better  go  somewhere  else.  On  the 
day  the  lawn  tennis  party  was  held,  a  notice 
to  Matt  Coyle  to  pull  down  his  shanty  and 
vacate  the  ground  of  which  he  had  taken 
unauthorized  possession,  was  given  to  a  consta- 
ble, and  Tom  Bigden  and  his  cousins  happened 
along  just  as  the  officer  had  begun  to  read  it 
to  him.  The  boys  knew  that  there  was  some- 
thing going  on  in  the  settlement  before  they 
came  within  sight  of  it,  for  when  the  officer 
took  the  notice  from  his  pocket  the  squatter 
declared  that  he  would  not  have  any  papers 
served  on  him  :  and  then  followed  a  loud  and 
angry  altercation  in  which  Matt  Coyle  and  his 
family,  the  constable  and  half  a  dozen  guides 
took  part.  Tom  and  his  companions  quickened 
their  pace  to  a  run,  and  arrived  upon  the  scene 


100  JOE   WAYEING   AT   HOME. 

just  in  time  to  hear  the  squatter  say,  in 
savage  tones  : 

"  I  know  what's  into  that  there  paper,  an'  I 
tell  you  agin  that  I  won't  listen  to  it.  Some 
of  them  rich  fellers  up  there  on  the  hill  want 
me  to  go  away  from  here,  but  I  tell  you  I  won't 
do  it.  I've  got  just  as  much  right— 

"  Keep  still,  can't  you  ?  "  shouted  the  officer. 
He  had  to  shout  in  order  to  make  himself  heard, 
for  Matt  Coyle's  voice  was  almost  as  loud  as 
a  fog  whistle.  "  I  am  going  to  read  this 
notice  whether  you  listen  or  not." 

"  No,  I  won't  listen,"  roared  the  squatter, 
swinging  his  arms  around  his  head.  "I've 
got  just  as  much  right  on  this  here  'arth  as 
them  rich  folks  up  on  the  hill  have.  Where 
shall  I  go  if  I  leave  here  ? " 

"  I  am  sure  I  don't  care  where  you  go," 
replied  the  officer.  "  But  you  are  not  wanted 
in  Mount  Airy  and  you  can't  stay." 

"But  I  tell  you  I  will  stay,  too,"  shouted 
Matt,  who  was  so  nearly  beside  himself  that 
Tom  and  his  companions  looked  for  nothing 
but  to  see  him  assault  the  officer.  Probably  he 
would  have  laid  violent  hands  upon  him  had  it 


TOM   INTERVIEWS  THE   SQUATTEK.  101 

not  been  for  the  presence  of  the  stalwart  guides, 
who  stood  close  behind  him.  ' '  I  came  here 
'cause  I  heared  that  there  was  plenty  that  an 
honest,  hard-workin'  man  could  do." 

"And  so  there  is,"  answered  the  constable, 
"but  you  are  neither  honest  nor  hard-working." 

"They  wouldn't  have  me  an'  my  boys  fur 
guides,  'cause  we  didn't  have  no  fine  clothes  to 
wear,"  continued  Matt.  "An'  nuther  would 
they  buy  the  fish  we  ketched,  'cause — look  a 
yer.  You  needn't  try  to  read  that  there  paper 
to  me,  'cause  I  won't  listen  to  it,  I  tell  you." 

But  the  constable,  who  had  grown  tired  of 
talking,  paid  no  attention  to  him.  He  read 
the  notice,  raising  his  voice  as  often  as  the 
squatter  raised  his ;  then  Matt's  boys,  and 
finally  his  wife  came  to  his  assistance,  and 
this  started  the  guides,  who  flourished  their 
fists  in  the  air  and  shouted  until  they  were  red 
in  the  face.  Among  them  all  they  raised  a 
fearful  hubbub,  and,  of  course,  the  officer's 
voice  wa«  entirely  inaudible ;  but  he  read 
calmly  on,  and  when  he  had  finished  the  docu- 
ment he  walked  away,  followed  by  the  guides, 
and  leaving  the  squatter  and  his  family  in  a 


102  JOE   WATRING   AT   HOME. 

towering  rage.  Ralph  and  Loren  were  afraid 
of  them  now  that  the  constable  and  his  broad- 
shouldered  backers  were  gone,  but  Tom  looked 
serenely  on,  and  could  hardly  resist  the  impulse 
to  laugh  outright  when  he  saw  Matt  and  his 
family  stamping  about,  shaking  their  clenched 
hands  in  the  air,  and  acting  altogether  as 
though  they  had  taken  leave  of  their  senses. 

"Let's  get  away  from  here,"  whispered 
Loren,  when  Matt  made  a  sudden  and  furious 
rush  toward  the  shanty,  and  began  trying  to 
kick  the  side  of  it  in  with  his  heavy  boots,  just 
to  show  how  mad  he  was,  and  to  give  his  wife 
and  boys  some  idea  of  the  damage  he  would  do 
if  he  only  possessed  the  power. 

"  What's  your  hurry  ?"  asked  Tom,  indiffer- 
ently. "  Can't  you  see  how  we  can  turn  this 
to  our  advantage  ?" 

"  I  can  see  that  those  people  are  in  a  terrible 
rage,"  replied  Loren,  who  was  really  alarmed, 
"  and  I  am  afraid  they  will  turn  on  us 
next." 

"  There's  no  danger  of  that,"  answered  Tom, 
confidently.  "  When  men  rant  and  rave  in 
that  way  they  are  not  to  be  feared  for  any  thing 


TOM   INTERVIEWS   THE   SQUATTER.          103 

they  may  do  openly.  They  are  the  ones  who 
work  in  secret." 

At  this  moment  Matt  Coyle  became  aware 
that  he  and  his  family  were  not  alone — that 
there  were  three  interested  spectators  close  at 
hand  ;  and  as  if  to  show  Tom  that  he  was  mis- 
taken in  the  opinions  to  which  he  had  just 
given  expression,  Matt  rushed  toward  him  as 
if  he  meant  to  annihilate  him,  followed  by  all 
the  members  of  his  family,  who  shook  their  fists 
and  shouted  as  if  they  were  very  angry  indeed. 
Ralph  and  Loren  shrank  back,  but  Tom,  who 
was  nobody' s  coward,  stood  his  ground,  looked 
squarely  into  Matt' s  eyes,  and  coolly  put  his 
hands  into  his  pockets. 

"What  you  standin'  here  gapin'  at?" 
demanded  the  squatter,  fiercely.  He  had  drawn 
back  his  fist  with  the  full  intention  of  striking 
Tom  ;  but  when  he  saw  that  the  boy  did  not 
appear  to  be  at  all  afraid  of  him,  he  thought 
better  of  it. 

"Why  do  you  come  at  us  in  that  savage 
way?"  demanded  Tom.  "We  don't  scare 
worth  a  cent.  If  you  want  to  get  even  with 
any  one  for  the  shameful  manner  in  which  you 


104  JOE   WATRING   AT   HOME. 

have  been  treated,  there' s  the  man  you  must 
go  for,"  he  added,  pointing  toward  the  grove 
which  concealed  Mr.  Way  ring's  house  from 
view.  ' '  He  is  entirely  to  blame  for  all  the 
trouble  you  have  had.  Your  cabin  is  on  his 
land,  and  the  trustees  never  would  have  thought 
of  ordering  you  off  if  he  had  not  complained  of 
you." 

Matt  and  his  family  were  greatly  astonished. 
They  thought  that  every  one  in  town  looked 
down  on  them  because  they  were  poor,  but 
here  was  somebody  who  sympathized  with 
them.  Tom,  quick  to  see  that  he  had  made  an 
impression  upon  the  angry  squatter,  went  on 
to  say— 

';  If  the  people  of  this  village  should  treat  me 
as  they  have  treated  you,  it  would  make  a 
regular  Ishmaelite  of  me." 

"  What  sort  of  a  feller  is  that  ? "  asked  Matt. 

"Why,  Ishmael  was  a  hunter  who  lived  a 
good  many  years  ago,"  answered  Tom.  "His 
hand  was  against  every  man,  and  every  man' s 
hand  was  against  him.  He  didn't  have  a 
friend  in  the  world." 

"That's  me,"  exclaimed  Matt,  who  seemed 


TOM   INTERVIEWS   THE   SQUATTER.          105 

pleased  to  know  that  there  was,  or  had  been, 
at  least  one  other  man  in  existence  who  knew 
what  trouble  was.  "I  ain't  got  no  friends 
nuther.  These  rich  folks  have  tried  to  starve 
me  since  I  came  here,  but  they  didn't  do  it- 
no  t  by  a  long  shot." 

"Now,  if  I  were  situated  as  you  are,"  con- 
tinued Tom,  "I  would  draw  a  bee-line  for 
Sherwin's  pond— 

"  Where's  that  ?  "  inquired  Matt. 

"It  lies  off  that  way,  fifteen  miles  from  the 
head  of  this  lake,"  replied  Tom,  indicating  the 
direction  with  his  finger,  and  wondering  at  the 
same  time  how  Matt  could  have  expected  to 
render  acceptable  service  as  guide  to  the  guests 
of  the  hotels,  when  he  was  not  acquainted  with 
the  surrounding  country.  "There  are  about 
twelve  miles  of  rapids  in  the  stream  that  con- 
nects the  lake  with  Sherwin's  pond,  but  your 
punt  will  go  through  easy  enough  if  you  can 
keep  her  clear  of  the  rocks.  As  I  was  saying, 
I  would  go  down  there,  put  up  my  cabin  and 
live  in  peace.  I'd  make  more  money,  too, 
than  I  could  by  acting  as  guide  and  boat- 
man." 


106  JOE    WAYRING  AT   HOME. 

"How  would  you  do  it  ?  "  asked  the  squat- 
ter, whose  anger  was  all  gone  now. 

"Simply  by  keeping  my  eyes  open.  You 
see  those  sail-boats  anchored  out  there  ?  Well, 
if  one  of  them  should  happen  to  get  adrift  some 
stormy  night,  and  come  safely  through  the 
rapids  into  the  pond  and  I  should  catch  it,  I 
wouldn't  give  it  up  until  I  got  a  big  reward  for 
saving  it,  would  I  ?  Then  again,  the  pointers, 
setters  and  hounds  that  hunt  in  these  fields  and 
woods  very  often  get  lost,  and  their  owners  are 
willing  to  give  almost  any  price  to  get  them 
back.  I  tell  you,"  exclaimed  Tom,  who  knew 
by  the  gleam  of  intelligence  that  appeared  on 
the  swarthy  faces  before  him  that  Matt  and  his 
family  understood  him  perfectly,  "I  could 
make  plenty  of  money  by  taking  up  my  abode 
down  there  on  the  shore  of  that  pond.  If  the 
things  I  have  been  talking  about  didn't  hap- 
pen of  themselves,  I'd  make  them  happen — do 
you  see?  Well,  good-by,  and  remember  that 
we  three  boys  had  no  hand  in  driving  you  out 
of  Mount  Airy." 

So  saying  Tom  walked  off  followed  by  his 
companions,  while  Matt  and  his  family  faced 
about  and  went  toward  their  shanty. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

TOM'S   PLANS   AEE   UPSET. 

FOR  a  while  the  three  boys  walked  along  in 
silence,  Loren  and  Ralph  being  too  amazed 
to  speak,  and  Tom  pluming  himself  on  having 
done  something  that  would,  in  the  end,  bring 
Joe  Wayring  and  some  of  the  other  boys  he  dis- 
liked no  end  of  trouble.  The  fact  that  it  might 
bring  trouble  to  himself  as  well,  never  once 
entered  his  mind.  Ralph  was  the  first  to 
speak. 

"I  wouldn't  have  had  that  thing  happen  for 
any  thing,"  said  he. 

"  What  thing  ? "  demanded  Tom. 

"  Why,  that  interview  with  the  squatter.  I 
could  see,  by  the  expression  on  his  face,  that 
you  put  the  very  mischief  into  his  head." 

"And  that  was  just  what  I  meant  to  do," 
replied  Tom,  who  laughed  heartily  when  he 
saw  how  troubled  his  cousins  were  over  what 


108  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

he  had  said  to  Matt  Coyle.  "  I  saw  he  was 
thick-headed  and  needed  help,  and  so  I  gave  it 
to  him." 

"But  don't  you  know  that  it  is  dangerous  to 
trust  a  man  like  that  ?  If  he  gets  into  trouble 
through  the  suggestions  you  made  to  him — and 
he  will  just  as  surely  as  he  attempts  to  act  upon 
them — he'll  blow  the  whole  thing." 

"  What  in  the  world  has  he  got  to  blow,  and 
how  have  I  trusted  him  ?"  asked  Tom,  rather 
sharply.  "  I  didn't  tell  him  to  turn  the  sail- 
boats adrift  or  to  steal  the  guests'  hunting-dogs, 
did  I  ?  I  simply  told  him  what  I  should  do  if 
I  were  in  his  place." 

"  But  you  intended  it  for  a  suggestion,  and 
hoped  he  would  act  upon  it,  didn't  you  ?  " 

"  Well,  tliaf  s  a  different  matter,"  answered 
Tom.  "  If  he  tries  to  revenge  himself  upon  the 
citizens  of  Mount  Airy  for  refusing  to  employ 
him  or  to  buy  his  fish,  and  his  efforts  in  that 
direction  bring  him  into  trouble,  it  will  be  his 
own  fault.  You  and  I  want  to  see  some  of 
these  conceited  fellows,  who  think  they  know 
more  and  are  better  than  any  body  else,  brought 
down  a  peg  or  two,  and  if  that  squatter  is 


TOM'S   PLANS   ARE   UPSET.  109 

accommodating  enough  to  do  the  work  for  us 
—why,  I  say  let  him  do  it." 

Tom  continued  to  talk  in  this  way  for  a  long 
time,  and  to  such  good  purpose  that  when  they 
reached  home  his  cousins  had  forgotten  their 
fears,  and  even  expressed  much  interest  and 
curiosity  regarding  the  course  of  action  that 
Matt  Coyle  might  see  fit  to  pursue.  If  he  fol- 
lowed Tom's  suggestion  and  built  his  shanty 
on  the  shore  of  Sherwin's  pond,  they  might 
expect  to  hear  from  him  before  many  days 
more  had  passed  away. 

"I  hope  that  if  Matt  does  take  it  into  his 
head  to  do  any  thing,  he'll  run  off  Wayring's 
sail-boat,"  said  Loren,  gazing  proudly  at  his 
own  beautiful  little  sloop,  which  rode  at  her 
moorings  in  front  of  the  boat-house.  He  had 
brought  her  up  there  on  purpose  to  beat  the 
Young  Republic,  which  was  said  to  be  one  of 
the  swiftest  boats  on  the  lake  ;  but  the  first  time 
they  came  together  under  sail,  the  Republic 
had  run  away  from  her  would-be  rival  with  all 
ease,  and  it  began  to  look  as  though  the 
"Challenge  Cup"  would  become  Joe's  own 
property.  He  had  won  it  twice,  and  if  he  won 


110  JOE   WAYKING   AT   HOME. 

it  again  it  would  be  his  to  keep.  There  were 
those  in  the  village  who  didn'  t  want  to  see  him 
get  it.  They  had  expected  great  things  of  the 
Uncle  Sam — that  was  the  name  of  Loren' s 
boat — and  indeed  she  did  look  like  a  "flyer"  ; 
but  when  they  witnessed  the  short  race,  which 
Joe  Wayring  purposely  brought  about  one 
afternoon  to  test  the  Uncle  Sam's  speed, 
they  were  much  disappointed,  and  told  one 
another  that  the  cup  was  Joe's  for  a  certainty. 

"  If  Matt  will  only  take  that  boat,  I'll  win 
the  next  regatta,"  continued  Loren.  "If  he 
does  take  her,  Joe  will  never  see  her  again,  for 
she  will  be  smashed  to  pieces  in  the  rapids." 

"  If  I  could  have  my  way,  I  should  prefer  to 
have  Matt  run  off  Joe's  Rob  Roy,  for  then 
you  and  Ralph  would  stand  a  chance  of  win- 
ning some  of  the  canoe  races,"  observed  Tom. 
"But,  of  course,  he  couldn't  steal  the  canoe 
without  breaking  into  the  boat-house,  and  that 
would  send  him  up  for  burglary." 

"  Oh,  no;  he  won't  do  that,"  exclaimed  Loren. 

Tom  made  no  audible  reply,  but  to  himself 
he  said : 

"  I  don't  suppose  he  will ;  but  /might  do  it, 


TOM'S   PLANS   ARE   UPSET.  Ill 

and  let  Joe  and  the  rest  blame  Matt  Coyle  for 
it." 

There  were  still  several  hours  of  daylight  left, 
and  for  want  of  some  better  way  of  passing  the 
time,  as  well  as  to  put  themselves  in  trim  for 
the  coining  canoe  meet,  Tom  and  his  cousins  de- 
cided that  they  would  spend  the  rest  of  the  after- 
noon on  the  water.  Ever  since  their  canoes 
came  into  their  possession  they  had  been  assid- 
uously practicing  with  their  double  paddles, 
and  Tom,  who  was  quick  to  learn  any  thing 
that  required  strength  and  skill  for  its  execu- 
tion, was  fast  becoming  an  expert  canoeist.  In 
a  hurry-scurry  or  portage  race  he  could  beat 
either  of  his  cousins,  and  on  this  particular 
afternoon  he  wanted  to  try  an  upset  race,  of 
which  he  had  that  day  heard  for  the  first 
time. 

"  I  saw  an  upset  race  rowed,  or  rather  pad- 
dled, during  the  meet  of  the  American  Canoe 
Association  at  Lake  George  last  summer,  and  I 
wonder  that  I  didn't  think  to  speak  of  it,"  said 
Ralph.  "  Well,  better  late  than  never.  We 
will  go  up  to  the  head  of  the  lake,  where  no 
one  will  be  likely  to  see  us,  and  make  our  first 


112  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

trial.  We  are  all  good  swimmers,  and  it  seems 
to  me  that  we  ought  to  make  good  time.  The 
secret  lies  in  getting  back  into  our  canoes  after 
we  have  upset  them.  If  we  can  learn  to  do 
that  easily  and  quickly,  we  will  stand  a  chance 
of  putting  Joe  Wayring  to  his  mettle,  even  if 
we  don't  beat  him  in  the  race." 

The  boys  went  into  the  boat-house  by  a  side 
door,  and  about  ten  minutes  afterward  the  front 
door  swung  open,  and  two  Shadow  canoes 
and  one  Rob  Roy  were  pushed  into  the  water, 
and  as  many  young  fellows,  dressed  in  light 
gymnastic  suits,  sprang  into  them  and  paddled 
up  the  lake.  They  met  a  few  sailing  parties, 
who  waved  their  handkerchiefs  and  hats  to 
them  as  they  shot  by,  and  at  the  end  of  half  an 
hour  reached  a  wide  and  deep  cove  near  the 
head  of  the  lake.  This  was  their  practice 
ground.  They  had  chosen  it  for  that  purpose 
because  it  was  a  retired  spot,  and  so  effectually 
concealed  by  the  long,  wooded  point  at  the 
entrance,  that  a  fleet  of  boats  might  have  sailed 
by  without  knowing  that  there  was  any  one  in 
the  cove. 

"  We'll  start  from  this  side  and  go  across  and 


TOM'S   PLANS   ABE  UPSET.  113 

back,  as  we  have  done  heretofore,"  said  Ralph, 
who  led  the  way  in  his  Rob  Roy.  "  We'll 
upset  twice — once  while  we  are  going,  and  once 
while  we  are  coming." 

"But  how  does  a  fellow  get  into  his  canoe 
after  he  gets  out  of  it  ?  "  inquired  Tom. 

"  The  rule  is  to  climb  in  over  the  stern  and 
work  your  way  to  your  seat,"  replied  Ralph. 
"But  at  Lake  George  I  saw  some  of  the  con- 
testants throw  themselves  across  the  cock-pit 
and  get  in  that  way.  We'll  try  both  plans, 
and  each  fellow  can  adopt  the  one  that  suits 
him  best." 

When  the  boys  had  taken  up  their  positions 
at  safe  distances  from  one  another,  Ralph  gave 
a  shrill  whistle  and  away  they  started,  the 
light  Rob  Roy  taking  the  lead  with  Tom  close 
behind.  A  few  minutes'  work  with  the  double 
paddles  brought  them  to  the  middle  of  the  cove, 
and  then  Ralph  uttered  another  whistle.  An 
instant  later  the  three  canoeists  were  in  the 
water.  The  Rob  Roy  turned  completely  over 
and  came  right  side  up  in  a  twinkling  ;  and  at 
the  same  moment  Ralph's  head  bobbed  up  close 
alongside.  He  threw  himself  across  the  cock- 


114  JOE  WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

pit  and  climbed  in  with  the  greatest  ease  ;  and 
while  bailing  out  the  water  with  a  tin  basin 
that  was  tied  to  one  of  the  timbers  of  the  canoe 
so  that  it  could  not  float  away  or  fill  and  sink, 
he  looked  complacently  at  his  companions,  who 
were  making  desperate  efforts  to  regain  their 
seats  by  climbing  over  the  sterns  of  their 
respective  crafts. 

"  Grab  hold  of  the  side  of  your  canoe,  draw 
yourself  as  far  as  you  can  out  of  the  water, 
turn  a  hand-spring  and  land  on  your  feet  in  the 
cock-pit,"  shouted  Ralph,  addressing  himself 
to  no  one  in  particular.  "  I  saw  that  done  at 
Lake  George  last  summer  by  two  or  three  dif- 
ferent men." 

"  Suppose  you  do  it  yourself  and  show  us 
how,"  answered  Tom,  who  having  at  last  suc- 
ceeded in  gaining  the  deck,  was  slowly  work- 
ing his  way  toward  his  seat;  but  instead  of 
sitting  astride  of  his  canoe,  as  he  ought  to  have 
done,  he  tried  to  make  headway  on  his  hands 
and  knees  in  order  to  beat  Loren,  who  was 
making  all  haste  to  reach  the  cock -pit  of  his 
own  craft.  In  his  eagerness  Tom  forgot  how 
cranky  his  canoe  was,  and,  neglecting  to  trim 


TOM'S   PLANS   ARE   UPSET.  115 

her  properly,  she  turned  over  and  let  him  down 
into  the  water  again. 

Ralph,  of  course,  could  have  won  the  race 
very  easily,  but  he  lingered  to  watch  the  others, 
so  that  they  all  reached  the  turning  point  at 
the  same  moment.  On  the  home  stretch 
another  upset  occurred,  and  this  time  Tom  and 
Loren  did  not  waste  as  many  minutes  in  getting 
back  as  they  did  before.  They  learned  rapidly, 
and  when  half  a  dozen  more  races  had  been 
tried  they  became  so  expert  that  Ralph  had 
little  the  advantage  of  them.  By  this  time 
they  began  to  think  they  had  had  enough  of 
the  water  for  one  afternoon,  so  they  pulled 
away  for  the  boat  house,  Tom  easily  distancing 
his  cousins,  who  tried  in  vain  to  keep  up  with 
him. 

"  This  afternoon's  work  has  opened  my  eyes 
to  a  thing  or  two,"  said  Ralph,  after  they 
had  changed  their  clothes  and  sponged  out 
their  canoes. 

"  So  it  has  mine, ' '  exclaim  ed  Tom .  ' '  Let  me 
talk  first,  and  see  how  far  my  conclusions  agree 
with  yours.  In  the  first  place,  you  ought  to  win 
the  upset  race  " 


116  JOE   WAYEING   AT   HOME. 

"That's  my  opinion,"  said  Loren.  "He 
shall  win  it,  too,  if  strategy  is  of  any  use." 

"  You  are  no  sooner  out  of  your  canoe  than 
you  are  back  into  it  again,"  continued  Tom. 
"  I  am  sure  that  neither  Wayring,  Hastings  nor 
Sheldon  can  do  better  than  that.  I  only  wish 
you  had  a  little  more  muscle." 

"  But  I  haven't  got  it  and  can't  get  it  between 
this  time  and  the  race,  and  so  you  fellows  will 
have  to  help  me." 

"  Trust  us  for  that,"  answered  Tom.  "  Then 
we'll  turn  to  and  foul  the  best  contestant  in 
the  hurry-scurry  race,  so  that  Loren  can  win 
that ;  and  if  you  will  lend  me  your  Rob  Roy, 
I'll  take  my  chances  on  carrying  off  the  honors 
in  the  portage  race." 

"That  is  just  the  way  I  had  planned  it," 
exclaimed  Ralph.  "We'll  show  these  fellows 
who  think  themselves  so  smart,  that  there  are 
others  in  the  world  who  are  quite  as  smart  as 
they  are." 

It  was  a  very  pretty  programme,  no  doubt, 
but  it  never  occurred  to  Tom  and  his  cousins 
that  possibly  the  boys  to  whom  Prime  was  to 
introduce  them  the  next  day,  might  not  think 


TOM^S   PLANS  ARE    UPSET.  117 

favorably  of  it.  There  were  those  among  them 
who  had  never  been  first  in  any  race,  although 
they  were  very  expert  canoeists  ;  and  it  was  not 
at  all  likely  that  they  would  consent  to  see 
these  new-comers  carry  off  the  prizes  for  which 
they  had  contended  ever  since  the  club  was 
organized. 

Tom  and  his  cousins  were  tired  enough  to 
rest  now,  and  they  found  it  lounging  in  their 
hammocks  under  the  trees,  and  watching  the 
boats  that  passed  up  and  down  the  lake.  They 
took  another  short  run  in  their  canoes  by 
moonlight,  spent  the  next  forenoon  sailing 
about  in  Loren's  sloop,  and  at  one  o'clock  bent 
their  steps  toward  the  store  where  they  were 
to  meet  George  Prime  and  his  friends.  When 
they  arrived  at  the  place  where  Matt  Coyle's 
shanty  stood  the  day  before,  they  were  sur- 
prised as  well  as  delighted  to  find  that  it  wasn't 
there. 

"He's  gone,  as  sure  as  the  world,"  cried 
Ralph.  "Now  we  shall  very  soon  know 
whether  or  not  he  has  the  pluck  to  do  any 
thing  to  the  men  who  would  not  give  him  a 
chance  to  earn  an  honest  living." 


118  JOE  WAY  RING   AT  HOME. 

Tom  laughed  loudly. 

"  Did  you  really  think  I  was  in  earnest  when 
I  -told  Matt  yesterday  that  I  thought  he  had 
been  shamefully  treated  ? "  said  he,  as  soon  as 
he  could  speak.  "Why,  Ralph,  I  thought 
you  had  more  sense.  I  said  that  just  to  make 
him  mad.  If  I  succeeded,  he  will  do  the  work 
that  we  would  otherwise  have  been  obliged  to 
do  ourselves." 

When  they  reached  the  drug-store  they 
found  Prime  waiting  for  them.  After  he  had 
treated  them  to  a  cigar  apiece,  he  led  them 
through  a  rear  door  into  a  store-room,  where 
they  discovered  a  dozen  or  more  fellows  perched 
upon  boxes  and  barrels,  each  one  puffing  vigor- 
ously at  a  cigar  or  pipe.  They  were  engaged  in 
a  very  earnest  conversation  which  they 
brought  to  a  sudden  close  when  the  door 
opened. 

"Here  they  are,"  exclaimed  Prime,  as  the 
boys  arose  to  their  feet  and  took  their  pipes 
and  cigars  out  of  their  mouths.  "  Tom  Bigden, 
and  his  cousins  Ralph  and  Loren  Farnsworth, 
gentlemen.  I  believe  you  have  met  some  of  my 
friends  before  at  lawn  parties,  ball  matches  and 


TOM'S   PLANS   ABE   UPSET.  119 

the  like,"  added  Prime,  addressing  himself  to 
the  new-comers. 

"  I  had  the  good  fortune  to  meet  them  yester- 
day at  Miss  Arden's,"  said  one  of  the  boys, 
Frank  Noble  by  name,  advancing  and  shaking 
Tom  and  his  cousins  by  the  hand.  "And  I 
also  had  the  pleasure  of  putting  them  to  their 
speed  one  day  last  week,  when  I  happened  to 
catch  them  out  on  the  lake  with  their  canoes. 
You  ought  to  make  a  good  one,"  he  added, 
turning  to  Tom.  ' '  I  could  see  by  the  way  you 
made  that  Shadow  spin  through  the  water  that 
you've  got  the  muscle.  All  you  want  is  prac- 
tice. If  you  keep  it  up,  you  can  go  in  next 
year  with  some  hope  of  winning." 

Tom  was  somewhat  disconcerted  by  these 
words,  and  so  were  Ralph  and  Loren,  if  one 
might  judge  by  the  blank  look  on  their  faces. 
It  was  clear  to  them  that  there  were  others  be- 
sides themselves  who  wanted  prizes,  and  who 
looked  .to  their  friends  to  assist  them  in  win- 
ning those  prizes. 

' '  I  thank  you  for  your  compliment  and  for 
your  words  of  encouragement,"  replied  Tom, 
concealing  his  disappointment  as  well  as  he 


120  JOE   WAYRING   AT  HOME. 

could,  and  turning  to  shake  hands  with  another 
boy  he  had  met  at  the  lawn  party  on  the  previ- 
ous day,  "  but  I  am  going  to  win  the  portage 
race  this  year." 

"And  if  I  don't  come  in  first  in  the  paddle 
race,  it  will  not  be  because  I  do  not  try  my 
level  best,"  added  Loren. 

"And  I'm  going  to  give  somebody  a  pull  for 
the  upset  race,"  chimed  in  Ralph. 

It  was  now  Noble's  turn  to  be  astonished. 
He  looked  inquiringly  at  Prime,  and  Prime 
looked  at  Tom  and  his  cousins.  The  latter  saw 
very  plainly  that  while  they  were  laying  their 
plans  they  had  interfered  with  arrangements 
that  had  already  been  made  by  the  boys  by 
whom  they  were  surrounded,  but  they  were  none 
the  less  determined  to  have  their  own  way  in 
the  matter.  Tom,  who  could  hardly  conceal 
the  rage  that  had  taken  possession  of  him,  re- 
solved then  and  there  that  he  would  stick  to 
his  programme,  no  matter  what  promises  he 
might  be  obliged  to  make  to  the  contrary.  He 
was  like  an  Indian,  in  one  respect :  When  he 
wanted  a  thing  he  wanted  it  with  his  whole 
heart,  and  he  wanted  it  immediately.  He 


TOM'S   PLANS   ARE   UPSET.  121 

wanted  a  prize  to  show  to  his  city  friends 
when  they  came  to  visit  him,  and  he  wanted 
the  honors  that  prize  would  bring  him. 

"Well — yes,"  said  Prime,  who  knew  that 
Noble  and  the  rest  expected  him  to  say  some- 
thing. "  We'd  like  to  have  you  win  under 
different  circumstances,  but  as  it  is,  I  think — 
you  see — look  here  ;  I  suppose  you  are  with  us 
against  Wayring  and  the  other  fellows  who 
have  been  walking  off  with  the  prizes  every 
year  since  the  club  had  an  existence  ! " 

' '  Certainly  I  am, ' '  answered  Tom.  ' '  We  all 
are,  and  we're  going  to  do  the  best  we  can  to 
beat  them,  too.  Didn't  you  tell  us  no  longer 
ago  than  yesterday  that  you  wished  we  would 
come  into  the  club  and  make  Joe  Wayring 
lower  his  broad  pennant  for  a  while?"  he 
added,  turning  to  Prime. 

"I  did  ;  but  I  have  had  opportunity  to  talk 
the  matter  over  with  my  friends  since  then, 
and  we  have  decided  that  those  who  have 
worked  so  long  and  so  hard  for  the  prizes, 
ought  to  have  them  in  preference  to  any  new- 
comers." 

"All  right,"  said  Tom,  silencing  by  a  look 


122  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

the  words  of  indignant  protest  that  arose  to 
Ralph's  lips  and  Loren's.  "  Who  comes  in  for 
the  paddle  race? " 

"I  do,"  said  Noble. 

"  And  who  is  put  down  for  the  upset  race  ? " 
continued  Tom. 

Bob  Lord  said  that  he  was ;  and  a  young 
fellow  named  Scott  volunteered  the  information 
that  his  friends  had  decided  that  he  ought  to 
be  allowed  to  win  the  portage  race,  because  he 
came  so  near  winning  it  fairly  the  year  before. 

' l  Then  it  seems  that  my  cousins  and  I  are  to 
be  left  out  in  the  cold,"  observed  Tom,  who 
was  mad  enough  to  break  things. 

"  By  no  means,"  some  of  the  boys  hastened 
to  explain.  "  There  are  some  handsome  prizes 
offered  for  the  sailing  races,  and  we  intend  that 
you  shall  win  them  if  we  can  make  you  do  it." 

"Don't  want  'em,"  said  Tom,  gruffly. 
"Couldn't  enter  for  them  if  we  did." 

"Why  not?" 

* '  Because  we  bought  our  canoes  for  exploring 
purposes,  and  not  for  sailing.  We  received 
such  contradictory  advice  from  those  to  whom 
we  applied  for  information,  that  it  was  all  we 


TOM'S   PLANS   ARE   UPSET.  123 

could  do  to  make  up  our  minds  what  kind  of 
canoes  to  get ;  and  when  it  came  to  the  sails, 
we  thought  we  would  let  them  go  until  we 
could  decide  upon  the  style  of  rig  we  needed 
without  asking  any  one's  advice.  We  may 
make  up  our  minds  that  we  don't  want  any 
sails  at  all." 

"  Oh,  you  mustn't  do  that,"  exclaimed  Noble, 
"for  if  you  do  you  will  lose  half  the  sport 
of  canoeing.  By  the  way,  the  club  meets 
Saturday  evening,  and  if  you  say  so,  I  will 
take  in  your  names." 

"  I  am  obliged  to  you,"  replied  Tom.  "  But 
we  had  about  half  agreed  with  Wayring  and 
Hastings  to  propose  us  for  membership." 

Ralph  and  Loren  were  greatly  astonished, 
and  Prime  and  his  friends  saw  that  they  were. 

"I  am  sorry  you  did  that,"  said  Noble. 
"Every  one  of  us  here  present  has  pledged 
himself  not  to  vote  for  any  thing  brought  for- 
ward by  Wayring  and  his  crowd." 

"I  did  it  before  I  knew  what  sort  of  boys 
they  were,"  said  Tom,  apologetically,  "and  I 
don't  like  to  go  back  from  my  word.  Are  you 
going  to  black-ball  us  for  it  ? " 


124  JOE   WAYRINO  AT   HOME. 

"  By  no  means,"  exclaimed  all  the  boys,  in 
a  breath. 

"  We  want  you  to  help  us  carry  out  our  pro- 
gramme," added  George  Prime. 

' '  Well,  all  the  help  you  will  get  from  me 
won't  amount  to  much,  you  may  be  sure  of 
that,"  said  Tom,  to  himself;  and  his  cousins 
were  so  well  acquainted  with  him  that  they 
could  tell  pretty  nearly  what  he  was  thinking 
about. 

"Have  you  spoken  to  Wayring  about  pro- 
posing you  for  the  yacht  club  ?  "  asked  Scott. 

Tom,  with  unblushing  mendacity,  replied 
that  he  had. 

"I  don't  believe  the  regatta  will  amount  to 
much  this  year,"  remarked  one  of  the  boys 
who  had  not  spoken  before.  "  If  Matt  Coyle 
carries  out  the  threats  he  made  yesterday, 
there  won't  be  any  yachts  to  contend  for  the 
prizes.  You  heard  about  that,  I  suppose?" 
he  added,  turning  to  Tom  and  his  cousins. 

"  We  were  present  when  a  legal  process  of 
some  kind  was  served  on  him  yesterday,  and 
we  heard  Matt  say  that  he  wouldn't  go  away," 
answered  Loren.  "  But  when  we  came  around 


TOM'S   PLANS    AEE   UPSET.  125 

the  foot  of  the  lake  a  little  while  ago,  we  found 
that  he  had  cleared  out,  taking  his  shanty 
with  him." 

"  You  saw  the  constable  serve  him  with  a 
notice  to  quit,  did  you  ! ' '  exclaimed  Noble. 
"  Well,  you  missed  the  best  part  of  it.  You 
ought  to  have  been  there  about  three  hours 
later,  and  witnessed  the  fight  that  took  place 
between  Matt  and  his  family,  and  the  officer 
and  his  posse.  The  old  woman  proved  herself 
to  be  the  best  man  in  the  lot.  Matt  evidently 
knew  that  an  effort  would  be  made  to  eject 
him  by  force,  and  his  wife  prepared  for  it  by 
boiling  a  big  kettle  of  water.  When  the  con- 
stable, with  a  crowd  of  guides  at  his  back,  pre- 
sented himself  at  the  door,  she  opened  on  him 
with  that  hot  water ;  and  if  you  could  have 
seen  the  stampede  that  followed,  you  would 
have  laughed  until  your  sides  ached,  as  I 
did." 

"  You  didn't  laugh  much  when  it  happened," 
Prime  remarked.  "I  was  there,  and  I  know 
there  wasn't  a  man  or  boy  in  the  party  who 
showed  a  neater  pair  of  heels  than  one  Frank 
Noble." 


126  JOE  WAYBING   AT   HOME. 

When  the  burst  of  merriment  that  followed 
these  words,  and  in  which  Frank  joined  as 
heartily  as  any  of  his  companions,  had  some- 
what subsided,  the  narrator  continued  : 

"  I  am  free  to  confess  that  I  didn't  see  any 
thing  funny  in  the  way  the  old  woman  jammed 
that  long-handled  dipper  into  the  kettle  and 
sent  its  boiling  contents  flying  toward  us,  but 
it  was  very  amusing  after  it  was  all  over,  and 
I  woke  up  in  the  night  and  laughed  about  it. 
Of  course  the  defiant  squatters  were  over- 
powered after  a  while,  but  not  until  Matt  and 
both  his  boys  had  been  knocked  flat,  and  one  of 
the  guides  had  disarmed  the  old  woman  by  run- 
ning in  and  kicking  over  her  kettle  of  water.  The 
officer  was  determined  to  arrest  the  last  one  of 
them  for  resisting  his  authority  ;  but  Mr.  Hast- 
ings, who  happened  along  just  then,  and  who 
thought  that  neighbors  so  undesirable  could  not 
be  got  rid  of  any  too  quick,  told  the  constable 
to  chuck  the  squatter  and  all  his  belongings 
into  the  punt  and  shove  them  out  into  the  lake, 
after  giving  them  fair  warning  that  they  would 
be  sent  up  as  vagrants  if  they  stopped  this  side 
of  Sherwin'  s  pond. ' ' 


TOM'S   PLANS   ARE   UPSET.  127 

"  Did  he  do  it?  "  asked  Ealph. 

"  Of  course  he  did.  But  before  Matt  put 
his  oars  into  the  water  he  made  us  a  speech 
containing  threats  which  I,  for  one,  hope  he 
will  have  the  courage  to  carry  out." 

Here  Noble  stopped  to  light  his  cigar  which 
had  gone  out  while  he  was  talking. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


"  ~^T~rOU  don't  want  to  say  that  out  loud, 
JL  Frank,"  observed  Scott. 

"Say  what  out  loud?"  demanded  Noble, 
after  he  had  taken  a  few  long  pulls  at  his  cigar 
to  make  sure  that  it  was  going  again. 

"  That  you  hope  Matt  Coyle  will  have  the 
courage  to  carry  out  the  threats  he  made 
yesterday." 

"  Of  course  not.  But  I  can  express  my 
honest  sentiments  here,  for  we  are  all  friends, 
I  take  it.  Matt's  speech  was  a  short  one," 
said  Noble,  once  more  addressing  himself  to 
Tom  Bigden  and  his  cousins,  "but  it  was  to 
the  point.  *  You  see  all  them  there  sail-boats 
ridin'  at  anchor,  an'  all  them  fine  houses  up 
there  on  the  hill  ? '  said  Matt.  '  Wai,  the 
boats'll  sink  if  there's  holes  knocked  into  'em, 


A   DOG   WITH   A   HISTOEY.  129 

an'  the  ho  uses' 11  burn  if  there's  a  match  sot  to 
'em,  I  reckon.  Good-by  till  you  hear  from 
me  agin.'  He  hasn't  got  a  very  handsome 
face  at  any  time,  Matt  hasn't,  and  his  intense 
rage,  and  the  black  and  blue  lump  as  big  as  a 
hen's  egg,  which  had  been  raised  on  one  of 
his  cheeks  by  a  whack  from  a  guide's  fist, 
made  him  look  like  a  savage  in  his  war-paint. 
He  was  in  dead  earnest  when  he  uttered  the 
words,  and  if  the  Mount  Airy  boys,  and  men 
too,  who  have  incurred  his  enmity  don't  hear 
from  him  again,  I  shall  be  surprised." 

"  And  disappointed  as  well,"  added  Prime. 

"  I  didn't  say  that,"  replied  Noble. 

"  Of  course  you  didn't.  Nobody  said  it, 
but  I  think  we  understand  one  another." 

Ralph  and  Loren  looked  frightened,  while 
Tom  drew  admiring  applause  from  the  boys  and 
gave  expression  to  his  feelings  at  the  same  time 
by  dancing  a  few  steps  of  a  hornpipe. 

"Well,  we  must  be  off,"  said  he,  suddenly. 
"Another  engagement,  you  know." 

"What's  your  hurry,"  exclaimed  Prime. 
"  Stay  and  smoke  another  cigar." 

"Can't,"  replied  Tom,  turning  a  significant 


130  JOE  WAY  KING  AT  HOME. 

look  upon  Loren  and  Ralph,  who  wondered 
what  new  idea  he  had  got  into  his  head. 
"  We'll  go  and  see  Wayring  according  to  prom- 
ise, and  then  start  for  home." 

"  But  we  haven't  said  a  word  about  organiz- 
ing that  new  archery  club,"  interposed  Noble. 
"  Prime  told  us  that  you  three  fellows  were 
strongly  in  favor  of  it." 

"  So  we  are,"  was  Tom's  reply  ;  "and  some 
day,  when  we  have  plenty  of  leisure,  we'll  talk 
it  over.  We  are  happy  to  have  met  you,  and 
will  now  say  good-by  until  we  see  you  again." 

So  saying,  Tom  bowed  himself  out  of  the 
store-room  followed  by  his  cousins,  who  could 
hardly  hold  their  tongues  until  they  reached 
the  street,  so  impatient  were  they  to  know  what 
he  was  going  to  do  now.  They  were  certain  of 
one  thing,  and  that  was,  that  Tom  did  not  think 
as  much  of  George  Prime  and  his  friends  as  he 
thought  he  was  going  to. 

"  I  am  disgusted,"  declared  Loren,  as  soon  as 
they  were  safely  out  of  hearing. 

"  Not  with  me,  I  hope,"  said  his  cousin. 

"  Yes,  with  you  and  with  the  fellows  we  have 
just  left." 


A   DOG   WITH   A   HISTOEY.  131 

Tom  thrust  his  hands  deep  into  his  pockets, 
looked  up  at  the  clouds  and  laughed  heartily. 

"  I  expected  it,"  said  he;  then  he  stopped 
laughing  and  scowled  fiercely.  His  merriment 
was  forced,  and  he  was  as  angry  as  he  ever  got 
to  be. 

"  Are  you  willing  that  Prime  and  his  crowd 
should  lay  out  a  programme  for  the  races  with- 
out saying  a  word  to  us  about  it  ?  "  demanded 
Ralph,  who  forgot  that  that  was  just  the  way  in 
which  he  and  his  two  companions  had  treated 
Prime. 

"  And  did  you  really  ask  Wayring  to  pro< 
pose  our  names  at  the  club's  next  meeting  ? " 
chimed  in  Loren. 

"No,  to  both  your  questions,"  replied 
Tom,  emphatically.  "They  must  be  a  bright 
set  of  boys  if  they  think  we  are  going  to  let 
them  rule  us.  Why,  that  was  the  reason  we 
decided  that  we  did  not  want  any  thing  to  do 
with  Wayring  and  his  followers.  But  I  have 
thought  better  of  that  resolution,  and  I'm  going 
to  make  friends  with  Joe  if  I  can." 

"  And  cut  Prime  and  the  rest  ?  "  exclaimed 
Ralph. 


132  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

"Not  directly.  Look  here,"  said  Tom,  sud- 
denly stopping  in  the  middle  of  the  sidewalk 
and  facing  his  cousins.  "  We've  got  our  choice 
between  two  cliques,  both  of  which  have  showed 
a  disposition  to  make  us  do  as  they  say.  Now 
which  one  shall  we  take  up  with  ?  I  prefer 
Joe's.  He  and  his  friends  are  in  the  majority, 
and  they  are  not  one  bit  more  overbearing  than 
Prime  and  his  friends.  Besides,  they  will  let 
us  win  a  race  if  we  can  do  it  fairly,  but  the 
crowd  we  have  just  left  want  all  the  honors 
themselves." 

' '  If  you  try  to  carry  water  on  both  shoulders 
you  will  be  sure  to  spill  some  of  it,"  observed 
Loren. 

"I'll  risk  that,"  replied  Tom,  confidently. 
"  I  didn't  ask  Joe  to  take  our  names  in  to  the 
club,  but  I'm  going  to  before  I  am  ten  minutes 
older." 

"Why  didn't  you  ask  Prime  or  Noble  to 
take  them  in?"  inquired  Ralph. 

"  Because  I  didn't  want  Joe  to  know  that  we 
had  become  intimate  enough  with  those  two 
boys  to  ask  favors  of  them.  Now,  then,  here 
we  are.  You  know  Joe  invited  us  to  call  as 


A   DOG   WITH  A   HISTORY.  133 

often  as  we  could,  so  we  are  sure  of  a  welcome 
if  he  is  at  home.  Stand  ready  to  back  me,  if 
you  think  circumstances  require  it,  but  don't 
be  surprised  at  any  thing  I  say." 

As  Tom  uttered  these  words  he  opened  one 
of  the  wide  gates  that  gave  entrance  into  Mr. 
Way  ring's  grounds,  and  the  three  walked  up 
the  carriage  way  toward  the  house,  until  their 
progress  was  stopped  by  the  sudden  appear- 
ance of  one  of  Joe's  pets — a  Newfoundland 
dog,  which  came  out  from  among  the  ever- 
greens and  stood  in  their  path.  He  was  a  noble- 
looking  fellow,  and  although  he  was  gray  with 
age,  the  attitude  of  defiance  he  assumed 
seemed  to  say  that  he  considered  himself  quite 
as  able  to  keep  intruders  off  those  premises  as 
he  had  been  during  his  younger  days. 

"  Come  on,"  shouted  a  familiar  voice. 
"Mars  won't  trouble  you.  He  don't  like 
tramps,"  added  Joe  Wayring,  leaning  his 
double  paddle  against  the  side  of  the  house, 
and  coming  forward  to  greet  his  visitors.  ' '  But 
fellows  like  you  could  go  all  over  the  place ; 
and  so  long  as  you  did  not  pick  up  any  thing, 
Mars  would  not  say  a  word  to  you.  How  are 


134  JOE   TVAYRINO   AT   HOME. 

yon,  any  way ;  and  where  are  you  going  on 
foot?  Why  didn't  you  come  over  in  your 
canoes,  so  that  we  could  have  a  little  race  all 
by  ourselves  ?  Come  on.  Sheldon  and  Hast- 
ings are  down  to  the  boat-house  waiting  for 
me." 

"  We  came  over  to  ask  a  favor  of  you," 
replied  Tom,  as  soon  as  Joe  gave  him  a  chance 
to  speak.  "Would  you  mind  taking  in  our 
names  at  the  next  meeting  of  the  canoe 
club?" 

"On  the  contrary,  I  shall  be  pleased  to  do 
it,"  answered  Joe,  readily.  "You  have  been 
pretty  sly  since  your  canoes  came  to  hand,  but 
we  know  more  about  you  than  you  think  we 
do,"  he  added,  as  he  led  the  way  through  the 
carriage-porch  and  down  the  terraced  bank 
toward  the  boat-house. 

"I  don't  quite  understand  you,"  said 
Tom. 

' '  I  mean  that  we  have  watched  you  while 
you  were  taking  your  morning  and  evening 
spins  up  and  down  the  lake,  and  we  have  come 
to  the  conclusion  that  some  of  us  are  going  to 
get  beaten.  I'll  say  this  much  for  you,  Rig- 


A   DOG   WITH   A   HISTORY.  135 

den  :  I  never  saw  a  Shadow  canoe  get  through 
the  water,  until  I  saw  yours  going  down  the 
lake  yesterday  afternoon." 

"Thank  you,"  said  Tom.  "Do  you  know 
who  are  booked  for  winners  this  year  ? " 

"  Booked !  "  repeated  Joe.  "  There's  nobody 
booked.  The  best  men  will  win,  as  they  always 
have  done." 

"  I  am  afraid  you  are  mistaken." 

"  Oh,  no  ;  I  guess  not.  We  don't  have  any 
jockeying  here,  and  if  any  member  of  the  club 
should  so  far  forget  himself  as  to  interfere  with 
one  of  the  contestants,  he  would  never  row 
another  race  on  this  lake." 

' '  I  know  some  boys  who  are  going  to  take 
their  chances  on  it,"  said  Tom,  quietly. 

"  On  fouling  the  head  man  so  that  somebody 
else  can  win?"  cried  Joe. 

"  That's  just  what  I  mean." 

Joe  could  hardly  believe  his  ears,  and  neither 
could  Loren  and  Ralph  believe  theirs.  This, 
then,  was  what  Tom  meant  when  he  cautioned 
them  against  being  surprised  at  any  thing  he 
might  say  !  They  were  surprised — they  couldn't 
help  it ;  and  in  order  that  Joe  might  not  see 


136  JOE  WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

their  faces  they  fell  behind,  and  allowed  him 
and  Tom  to  go  on  ahead. 

"  You  know  boys  who  are  going  to  try  to  win 
by  foul  means!"  repeated  Joe.  "I  didn't 
suppose  that  there  was  any  one  in  the  club  who 
would  be  so  mean.  It  is  true  that  last  year  a 
certain  canoeist  persisted  in  keeping  as  close  to 
me  as  he  could,  and  drove  the  bow  of  his  craft 
toward  the  stern  of  my  own  as  often  as  he  got 
the  chance ;  but  I  thought  it  was  accident, 
while  some  of  my  friends  on  shore  declared 
that  it  was  his  intention  to  run  into  me,  and 
claim  the  race  because  I  got  in  his  way.  But, 
as  luck  would  have  it,  I  was  able  to  paddle  fast 
enough  to  keep  out  of  his  road.  It  seems  to 
me  that  if  I  couldn't  win  a  prize  fairly,  I 
shouldn't  want  to  win  it  at  all." 

"I  know  who  that  fellow  was,"  said  Tom, 
"  and  I  know,  also,  that  he  tried  his  very  best 
to  foul  you.  It  was  Prime.  I  heard  all  about 
it." 

Tom  and  his  cousins  supposed  that  Joe^s 
next  question  would  be  :  Who  told  you  about 
this  plot,  and  what  are  the  names  of  the  boys 
who  are  "booked"  to  win  by  fair  means  or 


A   DOG   WITH   A   HISTORY.  137 

foul  ?  But  greatly  to  their  surprise  Joe  pro- 
pounded no  such  inquiry.  The  latter  knew 
very  well  that  if  some  one  had  not  reposed  con- 
fidence in  him,  Tom  never  would  have  heard  of 
any  plot ;  and  Joe  was  too  much  of  a  gentle- 
man to  ask  him  to  violate  that  confidence.  He 
wanted  to  turn  the  conversation  into  another 
channel,  and  so  he  began  talking  about  Mars, 
who  was  walking  along  the  path  before  them. 

"That  fellow  is  the  only  foreigner  in  the 
party,"  said  Joe.  "  He  was  born  and  received 
the  rudiments  of  his  education  on  the  bleak 
shores  of  Newfoundland." 

"  Then  how  did  you  come  to  get  hold  of 
him  \ "  inquired  Tom. 

"  I  was  up  there  two  winters  ago  with  my 
uncle,  hunting  caribou." 

"What  sort  of  an  animal  is  that?"  asked 
Tom.  He  spoke  before  he  thought,  and  was 
provoked  at  himself  for  it.  He  did  not  want 
to  be  constantly  asking  information  of  a  boy 
who  never  came  to  him  for  any.  As  Tom  would 
have  expressed  it:  "He  didn't  care  to  make 
Joe  and  his  friends  any  more  conceited  than 
they  were  already."  Joe,  however,  was  not  at 


138  JOE   WAYRIXG   AT  HOME. 

all  conceited ;  but  if  Tom  Bigden  had  known 
as  much  as  he  did,  and  been  as  expert  in  all 
sorts  of  athletic  sports,  he  would  have  thought 
himself  too  grand  to  associate  with  common 
fellows. 

"The  caribou  is  the  American  reindeer,  but 
it  is  not  broken  to  harness  like  the  European 
animal  of  the  same  species,"  replied  Joe.  "  It 
is  hunted  as  game,  and  Nova  Scotia,  New- 
Brunswick  and  Newfoundland  are  the  best 
places  to  go  to  find  it.  Uncle  Joe  went  tip 
there  two  years  ago,  taking  Hastings,  Sheldon 
and  myself  with  him.  We  went  in  a  little 
fishing  schooner  that  was  bound  from  Glou- 
cester to  the  Bay  of  Fundy  for  swordfish." 

Tom  would  have  been  glad  to  know  where 
the  Bay  of  Fundy  was,  and  what  the  schooner's 
crew  intended  to  do  with  the  swordfish  after 
they  caught  them,  but  his  pride  would  not  let 
him  ask.  The  sequel  proved  that  it  was  not 
necessary,  for  Joe  went  on  to  explain. 

"The  Bay  pf  Fundy  runs  up  between  New 
Brunswick  and  Nova  Scotia,  as  you  of  course 
know  as  well  as  I  do,  and  the  fish  are  used  for 
food.  When  they  are  put  on  the  market  they 


A   DOG   WITH   A   HISTORY.  139 

are  sliced  up  like  halibut.  They  are  caught  with 
harpoons.  They  are  ugly,  I  tell  you,  and  when 
one  of  them  weighing  four  hundred  pounds 
comes  flopping  over  the  rail  and  begins  to  swing 
that  sword  of  his  around  like  lightning,  you 
may  be  sure  that  he  gets  all  the  room  he 
wants." 

"  What  do  you  do  with  the  swords  after 
they  are  taken  off  \  " 

"  Keep  them  as  curiosities  or  sell  them,  just 
as  you  please.  There  is  great  demand  for 
them.  I  have  one  that  I  should  not  like  to 
part  with.  It  belonged  to  a  two  hundred 
pounder.  The  sailors  thought  they  had  killed 
him  before  they  hauled  him  aboard  ;  but  he  gave 
one  expiring  flop  after  he  reached  the  deck, 
and  the  point  of  his  sword  cut  a  big  hole  in 
the  leg  of  my  trowsers.  If  I  had  been  a  little 
closer  to  him,  he  might  have  injured  me  very 
badly.  If  a  man  had  his  only  weapon  of 
offense  and  defense  made  fast  to  his  nose,  he 
wouldn't  do  much  with  it,  would  he  ?  But  it 
just  suits  the  swordfish,  which,  according  to 
Captain  Davis,  delivers  his  blows  so  rapidly 
that  he  will  kill  half  a  dozen  out  of  a  school 


140  JOE   WAY  RING   AT   HOME. 

of  albicore  before  they  can  get  out  of  his 
reach." 

"But  what  has  all  this  got  to  do  with 
Mars? "  inquired  Tom. 

' '  I  came  pretty  near  forgetting  about  him, 
didn't  I?"  said  Joe,  with  a  laugh.  "Well, 
we  went  back  to  Gloucester  with  Captain 
Davis,  who,  as  soon  as  he  had  disposed  of  his 
swordfish,  fitted  out  for  the  banks — for  codfish, 
you  know — and  went  with  him.  He  was  to 
land  us  at  some  little  fishing  hamlet,  whose 
name  I  have  forgotten,  where  we  were  to  obtain 
guides  and  go  back  into  the  interior  after  cari- 
bou ;  but  he  managed  to  run  the  schooner 
ashore  in  a  thick  fog,  and  there  we  stuck  until 
Mars  brought  off  a  line  to  us.  That  was  all 
that  saved  us.  The  sailors  hauled  in  on  it,  and 
finally  brought  aboard  a  larger  and  stronger 
line  to  which  a  hawser  was  made  fast.  We 
took  a  turn  with  that  around  the  capstan,  and 
after  a  good  deal  of  hard  work,  succeeded  in 
pulling  the  schooner  over  the  bar  into  deeper 
water  nearer  the  shore.  We  got  off  just  in  the 
nick  of  time,  too  ;  for  that  night  a  storm  came 
up,  and  raised  a  sea  that  would  have  made 


A   DOG   WITH   A   HISTORY.  141 

short  work  with  us  if  we  had  been  exposed  to 
its  fury." 

' '  Were  there  men  on  shore  opposite  the 
place  you  struck  ? ' '  inquired  Tom. 

"Certainly.  If  there  hadn't  been,  who 
would  have  tied  the  line  to  the  dog' s  collar  and 
told  him  to  take  it  out  to  us  ? " 

'  'I  should  think  they  would  have  gone  to  your 
assistance  in  their  boats,"  replied  Tom. 

"  So  they  would,  under  ordinary  circum- 
stances ;  but  no  boat  that  was  ever  built  could 
have  lived  a  moment  in  the  surf  that  was 
breaking  over  the  bar  when  we  ran  on  to  it.  I 
don't  understand  to  this  day  how  Mars 
managed  to  get  through  it.  I  have  seen 
him  swim  a  good  many  times  since  that 
day,  and  in  smooth  water  he  doesn't  seem 
to  be  any  better  than  any  other  dog.  It  is 
when  the  wind  is  blowing  and  the  white  caps 
are  running  that  he  shows  what  he  can  do. 
Uncle  Joe  was  so  well  pleased  with  the  dog's 
performance  that  as  soon  as  he  could  find  his 
owner,  he  offered  to  buy  him.  Of  course  the 
man  didn'  t  want  to  sell,  but  he  was  poor,  and 
when  he  thought  of  the  comforts  that  the  hun- 


142  JOE   WAYKINO  AT   IIOME. 

died  dollars  which  uncle  counted  out  before 
him  would  buy  for  his  wife  and  children,  he 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  we  could  have  the 
dog.  He's  mine  now,  for  Uncle  Joe  gave  him 
to  me  as  soon  as  the  bargain  was  struck." 

"  Did  you  get  any  caribou? " 

"  Plenty  of  them,  and,  would  you  believe  it? 
we  had  to  take  along  a  supply  of  food  for  that 
dog  the  same  as  we  did  for  ourselves.  He 
wouldn't  look  at  any  thing  except  salt  meat  or 
codfish.  I  really  believe  he  would  have  starved 
with  a  meal  before  him  that  would  have  made 
any  other  dog's  mouth  water.  But  he  is  civil- 
ized now,  and  takes  his  rations  like  other  white 
folks.  He's  got  a  history,  Mars  has,  and  if  his 
adventures  and  exploits  were  written  out,  they 
would  make  a  good-sized  book." 

A  loud  and  hearty  greeting  from  the  two 
boys  who  were  standing  on  the  dock  in  front  of 
the  boat-house,  put  a  stop  to  the  conversation. 
Tom  and  his  cousins  expected  that  the  first 
tiling  Joe  Wayring  did  would  be  to  acquaint 
his  two  friends  with  the  fact  that  a  plot  had 
been  formed  to  keep  the  best  man  from  winning 
at  the  next  canoe  meet,  and  to  throw  the  dif- 


A   DOG   WITH   A   HISTORY.  143 

f  erent  races  to  those  who  could  not  by  any  pos- 
sibility win  them  fairly  ;  but  again  they  were 
disappointed.  Joe  did  not  say  a  word  on  the 
subject,  and  the  reason  was  because  it  was  too 
serious  a  matter  to  be  discussed  in  the  presence 
of  boys  with  whom  he  was  so  little  acquainted. 

"A  dog  that  will  fetch  a  bone  will  carry 
one,"  was  Joe's  mental  comment.  "  Tom  and 
his  cousins  may  be  friendly  to  us,  and  then 
again,  if  there  is  any  truth  in  this  report,  they 
may  have  brought  it  to  me  on  account  of  some 
spite  they  have  against  those  from  whom  they 
got  it.  It's  best  to  keep  on  the  safe  side,  and 
so  I  will  hold  my  tongue  until  I  have  a  chance 
to  speak  to  Hastings  and  Sheldon  in  private. 
We  have  received  warning,  and  if  they  beat  us, 
it  will  be  our  own  fault." 

"  We  were  just  going  over  to  ask  you  three 
fellows  to  come  out  and  take  a  spin  with  us," 
exclaimed  Hastings.  "  We  have  had  our  eyes 
on  you,  and  to  tell  you  the  truth,  we  don't 
quite  like  the  way  you  handle  those  paddles  of 
yours." 

"  Of  course  we  don't  ask  you  to  do  your  best 
—indeed  we  would  be  foolish  to  expect  it," 


144  JOE   WAYRING    AT   HOME. 

chimed  in  Sheldon.  ' '  But  still  we  should  like 
to  try  a  few  short  races  with  you,  if  you  don't 
mind." 

"  We  shall  be  glad  of  the  chance  to  see  how 
much  we  lack  of  being  good  canoeists,"  said 
Loren,  readily.  ''We'll  walk  back  and  go 
around  the  foot  of  the  lake— 

"Oh,  no,"  interrupted  Joe.  "That's  too 
hard  work,  and  besides  it  would  take  up  too 
much  time.  There's  my  skiff.  We  can  put 
her  into  the  water  and  step  the  mast  in  a 
minute,  and  she'll  take  you  overflying.  Come 
in  here  ;  I  want  to  show  you  something.  We 
three  belong  to  the  committee  which  was 
appointed  to  draw  up  a  programme  for  the 
meet,"  added  Joe,  taking  a  folded  paper  from 
a  little  writing  desk  that  stood  in  one  corner  of 
the  boat-house,  "and  here's  what  we  shall  sub- 
mit to  the  club  at  the  next  meeting." 

Tom  Bigden  and  the  Farnsworth  boys  ran 
their  eyes  over  the  paper,  and  the  only  things 
they  found  in  it  that  possessed  any  particular 
interest  for  them  were  the  following  : 

"  Portage  race. — Paddle  a  quarter  of  a  mile, 
carry  canoe  twenty-five  yards  over  a  stony 


A   DOG   WITH   A   HISTORY.  145 

point,  re-embark  and  paddle  back  to  starting 
point. 

Single  paddling  race. — Half  a  mile  and 
return. 

Hurry -Skurry  race. — Run  ten  yards,  swim 
twenty-five  yards,  paddle  three  hundred  yards. 

These  were  the  ones,  as  we  know,  which  Tom 
and  his  cousins  had  "booked"  themselves  to 
win.  Then  there  were  sailing  races,  tandem 
races,  and  boys  and  girls'  races ;  and  the  meet 
was  to  wind  up  with  a  greasy  pole  walk. 

"  You  fellows  must  certainly  enter  for  that,/' 
said  Sheldon.  "  You  have  no  idea  how  much 
sport  there  is  in  it.  Some  of  the  Mount  Airy 
people  say  that  it  is  the  best  part  of  the  per- 
formance." 

Tom  replied  that  he  did  not  know  just  what 
a  greasy  pole  walk  was,  and  reminded  Sheldon 
that  he  and  his  cousins  were  not  yet  members 
of  the  club. 

"  But  you  will  be  members  before  the  day 
set  for  the  races,  you  may  be  sure  of  that," 
said  Joe.  "I'll  propose  you  at  the  next  meet- 
ing, and  I  know  there  will  not  be  a  dissenting 
vote." 


146  JOE  WAYKING   AT   HOME. 

' '  I  wish  you  could  give  us  the  same  assurance 
in  regard  to  the  archery  club,"  said  Tom. 

"  So  do  I,  but  I  can't,"  answered  Joe  ;  and 
then,  as  if  that  were  a  subject  that  he  could 
not  talk  about  just  at  that  time,  he  hastened 
to  add  :  "I  can  soon  tell  you  what  a  greasy 
pole  walk  is.  Did  you  notice  that  high  derrick 
built  on  the  end  of  our  pier  ?  Well,  a  long, 
stout  spar  is  run  out  from  that  derrick,  and 
after  being  braced  and  guyed  so  securely  that 
it  will  not  sway  about  under  any  reasonable 
weight,  it  is  thickly  covered  with  slush  to  make 
it  slippery.  There  is  a  prize  of  some  sort  at 
the  outer  end  of  it,  and  the  boy  who  can  walk 
along  the  pole  and  capture  that  prize  before 
he  falls  off  into  the  water,  is  the  best 
fellow." 

"  What  is  the  prize  ? "  inquired  Ralph. 

"Last  year  there  were  so  many  lucky  fellows 
that  we  had  to  provide  several  of  them,"  was 
the  reply.  "The  one  that  created  the  most 
fun  was  a  pig  in  a  bag.  Noble  captured  that, 
and  I  tell  you  he  had  a  time  of  it.  You  see, 
the  pig  was  greased  as  well  as  the  pole,  and 
the  bag  was  tied  in  such  a  way  that  when 


A   DOG    WITH   A   HISTORY.  147 

Noble  dived  for  it — that  was  the  only  way  he 
could  get  hold  of  it,  you  know — the  mouth  of 
the  bag  opened  and  the  pig  slipped  out.  Then 
the  uproar  began.  Noble,  who  is  a  plucky  fel- 
low and  a  splendid  swimmer,  didn't  know  that 
the  pig  was  greased,  and  he  tried  for  a  long 
time  to  tow  him  ashore  by  one  of  his  hind  legs, 
but,  of  course,  he  couldn't  do  it.  At  last  he 
began  to  suspect  something,  and  the  way  he 
larruped  that  pig  over  the  head  with  the  bag  to 
make  him  turn  toward  the  shore,  was  a  caution. 
He  finally  succeeded  in  his  object,  and  the 
instant  the  pig's  feet  touched  the  beach,  Noble 
sprung  up,  threw  the  bag  over  his  head  and 
secured  him  easy  enough.  Whatever  you  do, 
you  mustn't  miss  the  greasy  pole  walk." 

"  I  suppose  we  shall  be  laughed  at  if  we 
tumble  off  the  pole  into  the  water  ? " 

"  Certainly.  That  isn't  down  in  the  pro- 
gramme, but  it  is  a  part  of  it,  all  the  same." 

"How  many  trials  does  each  contestant 
have?" 

"  Only  two.  You  see,  there  are  so  many  of 
us  and  so  much  fun  in  trying  to  secure  the 
prize,  that  if  we  didn't  set  some  limit  to  the 


148  JOE   WAYEING   AT   HOME. 

number  of  trials,  the  boys  would  keep  on  try- 
ing for  an  indefinite  length  of  time." 

While  the  boys  were  talking  in  this  way 
they  had  pushed  Joe's  skiff  out  of  the  boat- 
house  into  the  water,  stepped  the  mast  and 
unfurled  the  sail  that  was  wrapped  around  it. 
Every  thing  being  ready  for  the  start,  the  little 
fleet  set  out  for  the  opposite  side  of  the  lake, 
Tom  and  his  cousins  in  the  skiff,  and  Joe  and 
his  companions  in  their  canoes.  The  skiff  was 
made  fast  to  Mr.  Bigden's  pier,  and  a  quarter 
of  an  hour  later  three  more  canoes  shot  out  of 
the  boat-house,  and  the  trials  of  speed  began. 
They  continued  nearly  all  the  afternoon,  and 
when  the  rival  factions  bade  each  other  good- 
night and  paddled  off  toward  their  respective 
boat-houses,  there  was  a  decided  feeling  of 
uneasiness  among  some  of  them,  while  the 
others  were  correspondingly  confident  and 
happy. 

"It  doesn't  seem  possible  that  this  is  Big- 
den's  first  season  in  a  canoe,"  said  Sheldon,  as 
soon  as  Tom  and  his  cousins  were  out  of  hear- 
ing. "  He  is  going  to  crowd  the  best  of  us  this 
year,  and  if  he  keeps  up  his  practice  until  the 


A   DOG    WITH   A   HISTORY.  149 

next  meet,  there  won't  be  a  boy  in  the  club 
who  can  touch  him  with  a  ten-foot  pole.  He's 
going  to  make  an  expert." 

"I'll  just  tell  you  what's  a  fact,"  said  Loren, 
after  the  canoes  had  been  wiped  out  and  hoisted 
in  their  slings,  "lam  not  so  much  afraid  of 
Joe  and  his  crowd  as  I  was.  I  don't  think 
there  will  be  any  need  of  the  fouling  business. 
I  kept  pace  with  Hastings  in  spite  of  all  he 
could  do  to  shake  me  off,  and  could  have 
passed  him  if  I  had  let  out  a  little  more 
strength." 

"That  shows  how  much  you  know  about 
these  things,"  said  Tom,  in  reply.  "Do  you 
suppose  that  Hastings  did  the  best  he  could  ? 
I  kept  up  with  Joe  without  any  very  great 
exertion,  but  I  don' t  crow  over  it.  They  had 
plenty  of  speed  in  reserve,  but  you  will  have 
to  wait  till  the  day  of  the  races  if  you  want 
to  see  what  they  are  capable  of." 

The  sequel  proved  that  Tom  was  right. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

RUNNING  THE  RAPIDS. 

"  "1VTOW  that  we  are  here  by  ourselves," 
•UN  continued  Ralph,  "I'd  like  to  ask 
you  why  you  told  Joe  that  the  best  man  was 
not  to  be  allowed  to  win  at  the  next  meet.  I 
never  heard  of  such  a  thing  before  in  my  life. 
What  do  you  suppose  Prime  and  his  crowd 
would  say  to  you  if  they  should  find  it  out  ?  " 
"  I  don't  believe  they  will  ever  find  it  out," 
replied  Tom,  who  did  not  seem  to  think  that  he 
had  been  guilty  of  any  thing  mean.  "  If  I  have 
formed  a  correct  estimate  of  Joe  Wayring's 
disposition  and  character,  he  is  a  boy  who 
knows  how  to  hold  his  tongue.  I  posted  him 
simply  to  off-set  the  coolness  and  impudence 
displayed  by  Prime  and  his  friends  in  shutting 
us  out  of  all  the  races,  without  so  much  as  say- 
ing by  your  leave.  Since  they  would  not  give 
us  a  chance  to  win  some  of  the  prizes,  I  say 


RUNNING   THE   RAPIDS.  151 

that  they  shall  not  win  any  of  them.  We  are 
not  going  to  play  into  the  hands  of  boys  who 
work  against  us." 

"That's  what  I  say,"  exclaimed  Loren. 
"  But  I  thought  Joe  acted  very  indifferently." 

"  Because  he  did  not  ask  me  to  go  into  the 
particulars  of  the  scheme,  and  give  him  the 
names  of  the  fellows  who  were  in  it?"  said 
Tom.  "  I  thought  so  myself  at  first,  but  after 
turning  the  matter  over  in  my  mind,  I  came  to 
the  conclusion  that  his  indifference  was  put  on; 
and  that  the  reason  he  did  not  ask  me  to  go 
into  details  was  because  he  was  afraid  I  would 
say  to  him  that  I  was  taught  not  to  tell  names 
and  tales  too." 

"  It  seems  to  me  that  that  is  about  the  size  of 
it,"  Loren  remarked.  "  But  look  here,  Tom. 
You  have  undertaken  a  pretty  big  contract  if 
you  expect  to  keep  on  the  right  side  of  both 
those  crowds.  One  or  the  other  of  them  will 
very  soon  have  reason  to  suspect  you,  and 
then  down  you  will  go.  What  are  you 
going  to  do  about  the  races  ?  " 

' '  My  proposition  is,  that  we  keep  up  our  regu- 
lar exercise  and  training,  and  do  the  best  we  can 


152  JOE   WAYRLtfG   AT  HOME. 

to  carry  out  our  own  programme,  leaving 
Prime's  clique  and  Joe's  to  carry  out  theirs,  if 
they  are  able  to  do  it.  If  we  find  that  we  stand 
no  show,  I  would  much  rather  see  Joe  and  his 
friends  win  than  Prime  and  his  friends." 

' '  So  would  I, ' '  said  Ralph.  '  <  Now  I  should 
like  to  have  some  one  tell  me  what  excuse  we 
have  for  being  down  on  those  boys.  We  got 
mad  at  them  simply  because  they  would  not 
break  their  rules  and  take  us  into  their  archery 
club." 

"And  wasn't  that  reason  enough?"  cried 
Tom,  hotly.  UI  wasn't  used  to  such  treat- 
ment while  I  lived  in  the  city,  and  I  won't 
submit  to  it  now.  I  don' t  think  any  more  of 
Hastings  than  I  did  on  the  day  he  so  coolly 
told  me  that  he  would  not  help  me  get  into 
their  club.  I  don't  care  whether  he  wins  or 
not.  What  I  mean  to  say  is,  that  Prime  and 
the  rest  shall  not  carry  off  any  of  the  prizes  if 
I  can  help  it.  I  intend  to  show  them  that  the 
next  time  they  want  any  help  from  me, 
they  had  better  let  me  have  a  voice  in  making 
up  the  programme;  and  I  shall  do  it  in  such  a 
way  that  they  can  not  possibly  misunderstand 


RUNNING  THE  KAPIDS.  153 

me.  You  two  can  do  as  you  please,  of  course; 
but  if  you  are  going  to  weaken,  I  wish  you 
would  say  so  at  once,  so  that  I  may  make 
my  arrangements  accordingly." 

Ralph  and  Loren  hastened  to  assure  their 
cousin  that  they  had  not  the  slightest  intention 
of  going  back  from  their  original  agreement, 
and  that  they  would  stick  to  him  through  thick 
and  thin,  no  matter  what  happened  ;  but  still 
they  wished  that  Tom  would  learn  to  like  Joe 
Wayring,  and  give  up  his  idea  of  being 
revenged  upon  him  for  slights  which  were 
wholly  imaginary.  Joe  had  a  much  larger 
following  than  Prime  and  Noble,  through  him 
they  could  get  more  invitations  to  parties, 
picnics  and  hunting  and  fishing  excursions 
than  they  could  in  any  other  way,  and  his 
influence  might  eventually  gain  for  them  an 
honor  which  they  craved  above  all  others — a 
membership  in  the  Toxophilites ;  for  those 
young  ladies  they  met  at  Miss  Arden's  lawn 
party  were  handsome  and  stylish,  that  was  a 
fact,  and  Ralph  and  Loren  had  more  than  once 
told  themselves  that  they  would  even  be  will- 
ing to  give  up  their  cigars,  if  by  so  doing  they 


154  JOE   WAYRING  AT   HOME. 

could  win  the  privilege  of  shooting  with  those 
same  young  ladies  twice  a  week.  If  they  became 
intimate  with  George  Prime,  and  were  often  seen 
in  his  company,  the  Toxophilites  would  drop 
them  like  so  many  hot  potatoes ;  and  then, 
when  invitations  for  any  social  gathering  were 
issued,  they  would  be  left  out  in  the  cold,  the 
same  as  George  was.  But  whatever  they 
decided  to  do  they  must  keep  on  the  right 
side  of  Tom,  for  if  they  did  not,  he  would  be 
sure  to  make  things  unpleasant  for  them.  It 
looked  as  though  Ealph  and  Loren  would  have 
to  do  the  very  thing  against  which  they  had 
cautioned  their  vindictive  relative,  that  is,  try 
to  carry  water  on  both  shoulders  and  take 
their  chances  of  spilling  some  of  it. 

"  Now  we'll  take  Joe's  skiff  back  and  put  it 
where  we  found  it,  provided  the  boat-house  is 
open,"  said  Tom.  "If  there  is  any  boy  in  the 
world  who  ought  to  be  supremely  happy,  he  is 
the  fellow.  He  has  every  thing  he  can  ask  for, 
including  a  rich  and  good-natured  uncle,  who 
takes  him  off  on  hunting  and  fishing  trips 
nearly  eveiy  year.  Why  that  boy, young  as  he  is, 
has  shot  caribou  and  moose  and  caught  salmon." 


RUNNING    THE   EAPIDS.  155 

Yes,  Joe  Wayring  was  happy,  but  it  was 
not  wholly  on  account  of  his  pleasant  sur- 
roundings. His  source  of  happiness  was  with- 
in himself,  and  he  knew  it.  He  had  been 
taught  that  lesson  at  the  same  time  that  he 
was  being  instructed  in  athletics  and  field- 
sports.  He  thought  more  of  others  than  he 
did  of  Joe  Wayring,  and  he  would  go  into  the 
dumps  in  a  minute  if  he  saw  any  of  his  friends 
in  a  disconsolate  mood.  If  things  didn't  go 
right  with  him — and  they  went  wrong  some- 
times, as  they  do  with  every  body — it  made  no 
sort  of  difference  with  Joe's  good-nature.  He 
kept  his  troubles  to  himself ;  but  Tom  would 
get  angry  and  go  into  the  sulks  and  make  all 
around  him  miserable.  While  going  on  the 
principle  that  whatever  is  worth  doing  at  all  is 
worth  doing  well,  Joe  was  nevertheless  perfectly 
willing  to  be  beaten  by  any  one  who  could  do  it 
fairly  ;  but  Tom  wanted  to  be  first  at  any  cost. 
This  was  the  principal  difference  between  the 
two  boys. 

Tom  cast  off  the  skiff's  painter  while  Lo- 
ren  and  Ralph  stepped  the  mast  and  shook 
out  the  sail,  and  in  twenty  minutes  more 


156  JOE    WAYRING-  AT  HOME. 

•  they  found  themselves  in  the  boat-house, 
where  Joe  and  his  two  friends  were  waiting 
for  them. 

"I  saw  you  coming  and  took  the  cover  off 
one  of  my  pets  so  that  you  could  take  a 
look  at  her,"  said  the  former,  directing  the 
attention  of  his  visitors  to  a  neat  cedar  shell  in 
which  he  had  been  wont  to  win  honors  before 
he  became  a  convert  to  canoeing.  ' '  She  has 
taken  me  first  by  the  judges'  boat  in  more  than 
one  hotly-contested  race  while  I  was  going  to 
school  at  Dartmouth  Academy.  Handsome, 
isn't  she  ?  No  doubt  you  will  be  surprised  to 
hear  me  say  it,  but  there  is  something  that  I 
think  more  of  than  I  do  of  her." 

As  Joe  said  this,  he  pointed  toward  an  un- 
gainly looking  object  which  lay  on  the  floor  at 
the  further  end  of  the  boat-house.  It  was  a 
canvas  canoe,  whose  battered  sides  bore  evi- 
dence to  numerous  encounters  with  sharp- 
pointed  rocks  and  snags.  » 

l'  It  must  be  on  account  of  its  associations," 
replied  Loren,  looking  first  at  the  clumsy 
canoe  and  then  at  the  clear-cut  lines  of  the 
shell.  "  If  I  had  my  choice  between  the  two, 


RUNNING  THE   KAPIDS.  1.57 

it  would  not  take  me  long  to  makeup  my  mind 
which  one  I  wanted." 

"  Of  course  not.  There  is  as  much  difference 
between  them  as  there  is  between  a  trotter  and 
a  plow-horse  ;  but  each  one  has  served  the  pur- 
pose for  which  it  was  intended,  and  served  it 
well,  too.  I  like  the  canoe  better,  because  she 
was  the  first  thing  in  the  shape  of  a  boat  I  ever 
owned.  She  has  carried  me  a  good  many 
hundred  miles,  first  and  last,  and  although  she 
has  often  got  contrary  and  spilled  me  out  into 
the  water  when  I  wasn't  expecting  it,  I  have 
had  any  amount  of  fun  with  her  exploring 
creeks  and  ponds  that  I  could  not  otherwise 
have  reached.  She  is  fourteen  feet  long,  weighs 
fifty  pounds  fully  equipped,  and  packs  in  that 
little  chest  you  see  there.  I  know  she  isn't 
very  good-looking,  but  when  it  comes  to  run- 
ning the  rapids  she  is  there,  every  time.  That's 
the  reason  I  took  her  out  of  the  chest.  We  are 
going  down  to  Sherwin's  Pond  to-morrow  after 
bass  ;  will  you  join  us  ?  " 

Tom  and  his  cousins  replied  that  they  would 
be  glad  to  do  so,  and  Joe  went  on  to  say  : 

"  You  see,  the  fishing  in  the  pond  is  better 


158  JOE  WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

than  it  is  in  the  lake.  The  people  who  corr,e 
here  to  spend  the  summer  do  not  often  go 
down  there,  because  there  is  no  wagon  road 
through  the  woods,  and  they  are  afraid  to  trust 
themselves  to  the  rapids.  Well,  they  are 
frightful  to  look  at,  that's  a  fact,  but — 

"We  know  that  very  well,"  interrupted 
Ralph.  ' '  We  have  gone  down  there  a  dozen 
times  with  our  minds  fully  made  up  that  we 
would  run  those  rapids,  or  smash  our  canoes  in 
trying,  and  we  have  as  often  come  back  with- 
out making  the  attempt.  When  we  reached 
the  place  where  the  water  leaves  the  lake,  and 
goes  foaming  and  boiling  over  the  rocks  in  the 
gorge  below,  our  arms  always  went  back  on 
us." 

"  Your  arms  ?  "  repeated  Sheldon. 

uYes.  Our  hearts  were  brave  enough  for 
any  thing,  but  our  cowardly  arms  wouldn't  pull 
the  canoes  into  the  rapids." 

"Oh!"  said  Sheldon.  "Well,  your  cow- 
ardly arms  were  the  wisest  part  of  you,  for  you 
certainly  ought  not  to  try  to  go  through  until 
you  know  where  the  channel  is.  Those  rapids 
have  been  run  hundreds  of  times,  though  not 


RUNNING   THE   KAPIDS.  159 

always  without  accident  to  be  sure,  and  if  you 
will  follow  close  in  our  wake  to-morrow,  we'll 
take  you  safely  to  the  bottom." 

"  We  must  make  an  early  start,"  said  Hast- 
ings, ' '  f  6r  we  want  to  reach  the  pond  just  about 
the  time  the  first  rays  of  the  sun  strike  the 
water.  Can  you  be  ready  at  four  o'clock  ?  All 
right.  Catch  a  good  supply  of  minnows  to- 
night, and  then  you  won't  have  to  waste  valu- 
able time  over  it  in  the  morning." 

"And  take  the  strongest  and  stiff  est  bait-rod 
you  have,"  added  Joe.  "Leave  your  fly-rods, 
if  you  have  any,  at  home,  for  you  will  have  no 
use  for  them.  About  June  1st,  when  the  bass 
season  opens,  those  who  know  how  to  throw  a 
fly  have  very  fine  fishing  among  the  rocks 
close  to  the  shore ;  but  as  the  weather  grows 
warmer  the  fish  gradually  draw  off  into  deep 
water,  and  all  the  bass  we  shall  catch  to-mor- 
row will  be  near  the  middle  of  the  pond  where 
the  springs  boil  up." 

"And  don't  forget  your  gun,"  said  Sheldon. 

"Nor  your  rubber  blankets,"  chimed  in 
Hastings. 

"Do  you  think  it  will  rain ? "  asked  Ralph. 


160  JOE  WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

"  We  hope  not,  and  indeed  there  are  no  signs 
of  it.  When  we  reach  the  head  of  the  rapids 
we  will  pull  off  our  heaviest  clothing,  so  that 
we  will  be  ready  for  a  swim  in  case  we  are 
unlucky  enough  to  capsize,  and  the  things  we 
don't  wear  we  will  wrap  up  in  our  rubber  blan- 
kets so  that  they  won't  get  wet." 

"Suppose  we  get  down  all  right,"  said  Loren. 
"  How  are  we  going  to  get  back  ? " 

"  We'll  shoulder  our  canoes  and  come  up  the 
portage  road  which  has  been  cut  through  the 
woods  around  the  rapids.  For  that  reason  we 
don't  want  to  take  any  thing  with  us  that  we 
can  possibly  dispense  with." 

After  listening  to  a  few  more  hints  like  these, 
Tom  and  his  cousins  set  out  for  the  post-office ; 
and  having  secured  their  mail  they  went  home 
by  the  road  that  led  around  the  foot  of  the 
lake,  running  at  the  top  of  their  speed  all  the 
way  through  the  woods  to  improve  their  wind. 
Their  skiff,  patent  minnow  buckets  and  dip 
nets  were  at  once  brought  into  requisition,  and 
by  the  time  the  supper  bell  rang,  they  had 
caught  bait  enough  to  last  them  through  a  long 
day's  successful  angling. 


RUNNING  THE   RAPIDS.  161 

Promptly  at  four  o'clock  the  next  morning 
Tom  Bigden  opened  the  front  door  of  the  boat- 
house,  and  waved  his  hat  in  response  to  a  simi- 
lar signal  of  greeting  which  came  to  him  from 
over  the  lake.  Joe  Wayring  and  his  friends 
were  just  putting  their  canoes  into  the  water. 

"  Splendid  day,"  said  the  former,  when  the 
two  little  fleets  came  together  near  the  middle 
of  the  lake.  "There's  going  to  be  just  wind 
enough  to  ripple  the  water,  but  not  enough  to 
raise  a  sea,  and  I  wouldn't  take  a  dollar  for  my 
chance  of  catching  the  finest  string  of  bass  that 
has  been  seen  in  Mount  Airy  this  year." 

"So  say  we  all  of  us,"  exclaimed  Sheldon; 
and  this  suggested  the  song  which  every  school- 
boy knows,  but  to  Tom  Bigden' s  ill-concealed 
disgust,  it  was  sung  to  the  words :  "Joe  Way- 
ring  is  a  jolly  good  fellow,"  and  that  was  a  sen- 
timent in  which  Tom  did  not  fully  concur.  It 
put  him  in  bad  humor  for  the  whole  of  the  day, 
or,  rather,  until  circumstances  threw  in  his  way 
an  opportunity  to  make  that  jolly  good  fellow 
as  miserable  as  he  was  himself.  After  that  he 
felt  better. 

Under  the  steady  motion  of  the  sinewy  arms 


162  JOE   WAYKING  AT   HOME. 

which  swung  the  long  double  paddles,  the  light 
canoes  made  quick  work  with  the  three  miles 
that  lay  between  the  boat-houses  and  the  lower 
end  of  the  lake,  and  presently  Arthur  Hastings 
turned  toward  the  nearest  shore,  looking  over 
his  shoulder  as  he  did  so  to  call  out  to  the 
canoeists  behind  him : 

"Let's  make  believe  this  is  a  hurry-skurry 
race,  and  that  there  is  a  prize  in  the  pond  wait- 
ing for  the  man  who  reaches  the  bottom  of  the 
rapids  first." 

The  challenge  was  promptly  accepted.  In  a 
twinkling  the  little  crafts  were  going  toward 
the  beach  with  greatly  increased  speed,  and  in 
a  remarkably  short  space  of  time  six  young 
athletes,  clad  only  in  flesh-colored  tights,  were 
prancing  around  their  canoes,  busily  engaged 
in  wrapping  their  clothing  in  their  water-proof 
blankets,  and  lashing  their  rods  and  minnow 
buckets  fast  so  that  they  would  not  be  thrown 
out  into  the  water  by  a  heavy  lurch,  or  even 
by  a  capsize.  Tom  Bigden  was  the  first  to 
shove  his  canoe  away  from  the  shore,  but  there 
he  had  to  stop.  He  was  not  acquainted  with 
the  channel,  and  needed  a  guide  to  show  him 


RUNNING   THE  RAPIDS.  163 

the  way  through  ;  but  he  won  the  second  place, 
and  was  prompt  to  fall  into  it  when  Arthur 
Hastings  caught  up  his  paddle  and  pulled  away 
from  the  beach. 

Tom  and  his  cousins  had  often  viewed  the 
rapids  from  the  bank  while  trying  in  vain  to 
screw  up  courage  enough  to  attempt  their  pas- 
sage, and  if  they  looked  dangerous  to  them 
then,  they  looked  ten  times  more  frightful 
when  they  surveyed  them  from  their  canoes  on 
this  particular  morning.  The  sight  of  them 
was  enougli  to  make  any  body's  nerves  quiver. 
They  looked  as  steep  as  the  roof  of  a  house, 
and  the  bottom  of  the  gorge  through  which 
they  ran,  seemed  to  be  literally  covered  with 
bowlders.  Torn  could  not  see  a  single  place 
which  looked  wide  enough  to  admit  of  the  pas- 
sage of  a  canoe. 

"What  do  you  think  of  them?"  asked 
Arthur,  as  he  and  Tom  backed  water  with  their 
paddles  to  keep  their  canoes  from  taking  the 
plunge  before  they  were  ready. 

"  Who  was  the  first  man  who  went  down 
here  ? "  said  Tom,  in  reply. 

"  One  of  the  hotel  guides." 


164  JOE   WAYRLNG   AT  HOME. 

"  Was  he  a  graduate  of  a  lunatic  asylum,  or 
did  lie  go  there  afterward  ?  "  inquired  Tom. 

Arthur  laughed  until  the  woods  echoed. 

"Neither,"  he  answered,  as  soon  as  he  could 
speak.  ' '  He1  s  got  a  level  head  on  his  shoulders 
yet,  if  one  may  judge  by  the  constant  demands 
that  are  made  upon  his  time.  Some  of  the 
people  who  come  here  every  summer  like  him 
so  well  that  they  begin  to  make  bargains  with 
him  before  the  ice  is  out  of  the  lake.  They 
wouldn't  do  that  if  they  had  any  reason  to 
believe  he  was  crazy,  would  they  ?  Well, 
what  do  you  say  ?  " 

"  I  say,  go  ahead  whenever  you  get  ready," 
was  the  response. 

"All  right,"  said  Arthur,  who  saw  by  the 
expression  on  Tom's  face  that  he  had  no  inten- 
tion of  backing  out.  ' '  Now,  watch  every  move  I 
make,  and  let  me  get  at  least  twenty  or  thirty 
feet  ahead  of  you  before  you  start.  Look  out 
for  both  ends  of  yourboat.  You  won't  run  on 
to  an  isolated  rock  unless  you  try,  because  the 
water  runs  away  from  it.  That  has  a  tendency 
to  throw  the  bow  from  the  obstruction,  and  the 
stern  toward  it ;  so  the  minute  the  bow  is  out 


RUNNING  THE   RAPIDS.  165 

of  harm's  way,  drop  your  paddle  into  the 
water  on  the  side  opposite  the  rock,  and  use  it 
the  best  you  know  how." 

"  Why,  that  will  throw  me  square  upon  the 
rock,"  cried  Tom. 

"No,  it  won't,"  insisted  Arthur.  "It  will 
throw  you  away  from  danger,  and  the  current 
rushing  around  the  rock  will  carry  you  still  fur- 
ther away.  But  if  you  use  the  paddle  on  the 
other  side,  you  will  come  up  against  the  rock 
ker-chunk  ;  and  then  you  will  have  to  swim  the 
rest  of  the  way  down,  because  the  stern  of  your 
canoe  will,  most  likely,  be  smashed  in.  Un- 
derstand?" 

Tom  replied  that  he  did  ;  whereupon  Arthur 
settled  his  cap  more  firmly  on  his  head,  took  his 
paddle  in  both  hands  and  with  one  bold  stroke 
sent  his  frail  craft  into  the  rapids.  The  moment 
the  current  caught  him  in  its  grasp,  he  began 
to  shoot  ahead  like  a  boy  coasting  down  hill. 
Tom  shut  his  teeth  hard  and  gripped  his  paddle 
until  the  muscles  on  his  bare  arms  stood  out 
like  a  gold-beater's ;  and  so  intent  was  he  upon 
watching  every  move  his  guide  made,  that  he 
forget  to  look  out  for  himself,  until  he  was 


166  JOE  WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

called  to  his  senses  by  a  warning  shout  from  his 
friends  behind. 

"Look  out,  there,"  yelled  Joe  and  Roy,  in 
concert.  "  You'll  be  over  the  brink  the  first 
thing  you  know." 

Tom  heard  the  warning,  but  it  came  too  late. 
He  dropped  his  paddle  into  the  water  and  made 
desperate  efforts  to  check  his  canoe,  which  had 
already  gained  rapid  headway  ;  but  the  swift 
current  had  taken  firm  hold  of  him,  and  find- 
ing that  it  was  much  stronger  than  he  was,  he 
resolved  to  go  ahead  and  trust  to  luck  to  keep 
from  running  into  Arthur  Hastings,  in  case 
the  latter  met  with  an  accident. 

Tom  afterward  said  that  he  did  not  remem- 
ber much  about  that  wild  ride.  He  was  lost 
in  admiration  of  Arthur  Hastings' s  skill  as  a 
canoeist,  and  followed  in  his  wake  through  all 
the  turns  he  made,  which  were  so  numerous 
and  bewildering  that  Tom  did  not  see  how  one 
boy's  head  could  contain  them  all.  It  was  a 
lucky  thing  for  him  and  his  cousins  that  they 
did  not  attempt  to  go  through  there  without  a 
guide.  He  did  not  hear  the  waters  foaming 
and  roaring  around  him,  nor  did  he  see  a  single 


RUNNING  THE   RAPIDS.  167 

one  of  the  rocks  past  which  he  went  with  such 
speed  that  the  wind  whistled  through  his  hair; 
but  he  did  see  the  smooth  surface  of  the  pond 
the  instant  he  came  within  sight  of  it,  and 
when  he  shot  into  it,  propelled  by  the  momen- 
tum he  had  acquired  during  his  descent  of  the 
rapids,  he  called  out  gleefully  that  he  had  not 
touched  a  solitary  obstruction  on  the  way. 

"Of  course  not,"  answered  Arthur.  "If 
you  had,  you  would  not  be  as  dry  as  you  are 
now.  There  is  a  clearly  defined  channel  all 
the  way  through  the  gorge,  and  you  won't 
touch  any  thing  if  you  keep  in  it.  What 
would  happen  to  you  if  you  should  get  out  of 
it,  I  don't  know  ;  but  I  think  you  would  be 
fortunate  if  you  came  off  with  a  simple 
capsize." 

It  was  a  thrilling  sight  that  was  presented 
to  their  gaze  as  they  sat  there  in  their  canoes  at 
the  bottom  of  the  rapids  and  watched  the 
others  as  they  came  down.  First  Joe  Wayring 
dashed  into  view  around  the  bend,  closely  fol- 
lowed by  Ralph  Parnsworth,  who  seemed  to  be 
quite  as  much  at  his  ease  as  his  guide  was,  and 
handled  his  paddle  and  managed  his  canoe 


168  JOE    WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

quite  as  skillfully.  By  the  time  they  reached 
the  smooth  water  at  the  foot  Roy  and  Loren 
came  in  sight,  and  in  live  minutes  more  the 
little  fleet  was  reunited.  The  hearts  of  three  of 
the  canoeists  beat  a  trifle  faster  than  usual,  but 
they  had  accomplished  the  run  in  perfect 
safety,  and  without  a  wetting,  and  they  were 
ready  to  try  it  again  at  the  very  first  oppor- 
tunity. 

"Take  time  to  learn  the  channel  before 
attempting  any  thing  reckless,"  cautioned  Joe. 
"  After  that  you  can  come  down  by  yourselves 
as  often  as  you  feel  equal  to  the  task  of  carry- 
ing your  boats  back  over  the  portage." 

The  boys  went  ashore  long  enough  to  put  on 
their  clothes,  untie  their  rods,  and  put  fresh 
water  on  their  minnows,  and  then  they  were 
ready  for  the  bass. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE   SQUATTER   TURNS   UP  AGAIN. 

ONE  fishing  excursion  is  much  like  another, 
and  any  boy  who  has  handled  a  nicely- 
balanced  bait-rod  when  the  black  bass,  perch, 
and  yellow  pike  were  hungry  and  full  of  fight, 
as  they  were  on  the  morning  of  which  we  write, 
will  have  a  clearer  idea  of  the  sport  Tom  Big- 
den  and  the  rest  enjoyed  there  on  the  pond 
than  we  could  possibly  give  him.  We  did  not 
follow  them  through  the  rapids  to  tell  how 
they  played  their  fish  and  how  many  they 
caught,  and  so  we  shall  have  but  little  to  say 
about  it.  Joe  Wayring  aflirmed  that  the 
twenty  minutes'  fight  he  had  with  a  nine  pound 
pike,  which  began  in  less  than  half  a  second 
after  he  dropped  his  hook  into  the  water,  gave 
him  solid  comfort  and  enjoyment  for  a  week 
afterward  ;  but  whether  or  not  he  found  any 


170  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

comfort  in  something  that  happened  when  they 
went  ashore  to  eat  their  lunch,  is  another  mat- 
ter altogether. 

About  eight  o'clock  the  fish  gave  notice  that 
they  had  quit  business  for  the  day  by  refusing 
to  notice  any  of  the  lures  that  were  dropped 
among  them,  and  then  the  boys  discovered  that 
their  long  pull  before  breakfast  had  made  them 
hungry. 

' '  Did  you  ever  eat  a  fish  that  had  been 
baked  in  the  ashes  ? ' '  inquired  Joe,  address- 
ing himself  to  Tom  and  his  cousins.  "Then 
you  have  yet  one  enjoyment  in  store  for  you. 
You  won' t  think  much  of  house-cooking  after 
you  have  eaten  one  of  Roy's  dinners.  We 
know  a  nice  place  on  the  point  above,  with  an 
ice-cold  spring  handy,  and  we'll— 

' '  Excuse  me  for  interrupting,"  said  Loren, 
suddenly.  "  But  did  you  ever  see  a  dog  like 
that  before  ? " 

The  speaker  wa$  not  a  little  surprised  by  the 
effect  his  words  produced  upon  some  of  his 
companions.  They  all  looked  in  the  direction 
indicated  by  his  finger,  and  then  Joe  began 
pulling  up  his  anchor  with  almost  frantic  haste, 


THE   SQUATTER   TURNS    UP   AGAIN.          171 

while  Arthur  and  Roy  reached  rather  hurriedly 
for  their  guns. 

"You  can't  do  any  thing  with  him  from 
here,"  said  Joe. 

"  And  if  we  paddle  for  the  shore  he  will  see 
us  and  take  to  his  heels,"  added  Roy. 

"Why  who — what  are  you  going  to  do  to 
him?"  stammered  Ralph. 

"  We'd  be  glad  to  shoot  him  if  we  could," 
replied  Joe.  ' '  He' s  no  dog.  He' s  a  half -grown 
bear." 

Tom  and  his  cousins,  of  course,  asked  a  good 
many  questions  with  their  lips  and  more  with 
their  eyes,  but  Joe  and  his  two  friends  were 
too  busy  to  answer  them.  They  made  all  haste 
to  raise  their  anchors,  and  then  pulled  rapidly 
but  silently  toward  the  shore,  all  the  while 
keeping  a  close  watch  over  the  movements  of 
the  bear,  which  was  wandering  listlessly  about, 
now  and  then  stopping  to  look  into  the  water 
or  to  sniff  at  a  log,  as  if  he  were  hunting  for 
something  he  had  lost.  Tom  and  his  cousins 
thought  he  looked  too  small  for  a  bear,  but  as 
he  did  not  walk  or  act  like  a  dog  or  any  other 
animal  they  had  ever  seen  at  large,  they  were 


172  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

forced  to  conclude  that  he  really  was  a  bear, 
and  that  he  was  in  search  of  his  breakfast. 
They  didn't  know  whether  to  be  afraid  of  him 
or  not ;  but  when  they  saw  how  anxious  Joe 
and  his  two  friends  were  to  bring  themselves 
within  shooting  distance  of  him,  they  lost  no 
time  in  pulling  up  their  own  anchors  and 
falling  in  behind  them.  The  bear,  however, 
was  not  to  be  taken  unawares.  He  did  not 
appear  to  notice  their  approach,  but  he  had 
his  eyes  on  them  nevertheless,  and  when  he 
thought  they  had  come  close  enough,  he  left 
the  beach  and  lumbered  off  into  the  bushes. 

"There  !  "  said  Tom,  who  was  glad  to  see  the 
last  of  him.  "He has  taken  himself  safely  off." 

"We  expected  it,"  said  Roy,  redoubling  his 
exertions  at  the  paddle.  "If  we  only  had 
Mars  with  us  we  could  see  more  fun  with  him 
in  half  an  hour  than  we  could  in  a  week's 
fishing.  He  begged  hard  to  be  allowed  to  come, 
but  Joe  made  him  stay  behind.  You  see,  he 
won't  sit  anywhere  but  in  the  bow,  and  he  is 
so  heavy  that  he  makes  a  canoe  hard  to  manage 
in  rough  water." 

"  He  wouldn't  trail  the  bear,  would  he  i" 


THE  SQUATTER  TURNS   UP   AGAIN.          173 

"Of  course  he  would,  and  be  glad  of  the 
chance.  If  he  found  him,  he  would  set  up 
such  a  yelping  that  you  would  think  there  were 
a  dozen  dogs  in  the  woods." 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  now?"  inquired 
Ralph,  as  the  six  canoes  ran  their  bows  upon 
the  beach,  one  after  the  other. 

"  We  are  going  to  stretch  our  legs,  and  that 
will  be  a  comfort  after  sitting  in  such  cramped 
positions  for  four  long  hours,"  replied  Joe,  at 
the  same  time  catching  up  his  double-barrel 
and  springing  ashore  with  it.  "  We'll  follow 
up  his  trail,  which  we  can  easily  do  for  a  mile 
or  more,  because  all  the  ground  about  here  is 
swampy,  and  when  we  lose  it,  we'll  knock  over 
a  few  squirrels  and  go  up  to  the  point  and  eat 
our  breakfast.  Keep  close  to  us,  or  else  stay 
within  sight  of  the  beach.  The  woods  are  thick, 
and  you  could  get  lost  without  half  trying." 

Led  by  Arthur  Hastings,  the  boys  ran  up  the 
shore  of  the  pond  until  they  reached  the  place 
where  the  bear  had  turned  off  into  the  bushes, 
and  then  the  pursuit  began  in  earnest. 
Whether  or  not  Loren  and  Ralph  were  as 
anxious  to  get  a  shot  at  the  game  as  they  pre- 


174  JOE  WAYRING  AT  HOME. 

tended  to  be,  it  is  hard  to  tell ;  but  they  made 
a  great  show  of  eagerness  and  enthusiasm,  and 
Tom,  not  wishing  to  be  out-done,  floundered 
along  the  trail  behind  them.  But  he  did  not 
keep  his  companions  in  sight  for  more  than  five 
minutes — in  fact,  he  didn't  mean  to.  lie 
gradually  fell  to  the  rear,  and  when  the  bushes 
closed  up  behind  Roy  Sheldon,  who  was  the 
last  boy  on  the  trail,  Tom  sat  down  on  a  log 
and  thought  about  it. 

"That  bear  doesn't  belong  to  me,  and  I  don't 
know  that  it  is  any  concern  of  mine  whether 
they  find  him  or  not,"  said  he  to  himself.  "It 
is  easier  to  sit  here  in  the  shade,  even  if  one 
does  have  to  fight  musquitoes,  than  it  is  to  go 
prancing  about  through  a  swamp  where  the 
water,  in  some  places,  is  up  to  the  tops  of  a 
fellow's  boots." 

Tom  suddenly  brought  his  soliloquy  to  a 
close  and  jumped  to  his  feet.  There  was  a 
frightened  expression  on  his  face,  but  the 
determined  manner  in  which  he  gripped  his  gun 
showed  that  he  had  no  intention  of  running 
away  until  he  had  had  at  least  one  shot  at  the 
bear ;  for  that  it  was  the  bear  which  occasioned 


THE   SQUATTER  TURNS   UP   AGAIN.          175 

the  slight  rustling  in  the  thicket  a  short  dis- 
tance away,  Tom  had  not  the  slightest  doubt. 
Probably  the  animal  had  made  a  short  circuit 
through  the  woods,  and  was  now  coming  back 
to  the  pond  to  tinish  his  breakfast.  While 
these  thoughts  were  passing  through  Tom's 
mind,  the  bushes  toward  which  he  was  gazing 
parted  right  and  left,  and  a  big  red  nose,  with 
a  shock  of  uncombed  hair  above  and  a  mass  of 
tangled  brown  whiskers  below  it,  was  cautiously 
thrust  into  view,  being  followed  a  moment  later 
by  the  burly  form  of  Matt  Coyle,  the  squatter. 
He  was  as  ragged  and  dirty  as  ever,  and  carried 
a  heavy  rifle  on  his  shoulder. 

The  meeting,  which  was  entirely  unexpected, 
was  a  surprise  to  both  of  them.  To  tell  the 
truth,  Tom  was  more  alarmed  when  the  squatter 
emerged  from  the  thicket  than  he  would  have 
been  if  the  bear  had  made  his  appearance. 
Matt  Coyle  was  very  angry  at  the  Mount  Airy 
people  on  account  of  the  indignities  they  had 
put  upon  him,  and  who  could  tell  but  that  Tom 
Bigden  himself  was  included  in  the  list  of  those 
against  whom  he  had  threatened  vengeance  ? 
The  squatter  seemed  to  read  the  thoughts  that 


176  JOE   WAYKING   AT   HOME. 

were  passing  in  the  boy's  mind,  for  as  soon  as 
he  could  speak  he  hastened  to  say : 

"You  needn't  be  no  ways  skeary  about 
meetin'  us.  We  ain't  forgot  that  you  was  the 
only  one  who  said  a  kind  word  to  us  while  we 
was  down  there"  —here  Matt  gave  his  head  a 
backward  jerk  intending,  no  doubt,  to  indicate 
the  village  of  Mount  Airy — "an'  of  course  we 
ain't  got  nothing  agin  you." 

Tom  drew  a  long  breath  of  relief  as  he  listened 
to  these  words.  Matt  wouldn't  do  any  thing 
to  him,  and  neither  would  he  injure  any  of  his 
property. 

"  But  as  fur  the  rest  of  'em,  they  had  better 
watch  out,"  continued  the  man,  in  savage 
tones.  "  I  shan't  forget  'em,  an'  I'll  even  up 
with  them  some  day.  It  may  be  five  year,  an' 
it  may  be  ten  ;  but  I'll  even  up  with  'em." 

"What  are  you  and  your  boys  doing  now  ? " 
inquired  Tom.  He  did  not  like  the  way  the 
squatter  glared  around  him  when  he  spoke  of 
the  village  people,  and  he  wanted  to  turn  the 
conversation  into  another  channel  if  he  could. 

"We  ain't  doin'  nothin',"  was  the  surly 
reply,  "'cause  why,  we  ain't  got  nothin'  to  do 


THE   SQUATTEE  TUENS   UP   AGAIN.          177 

with.  We  am'  t  got  a  bite  of  meat  in  the  house, 
an'  I  was  after  that  there  b'ar  when  you  fellers 
come  up  an'  skeared  him  away.  So  thinks  I 
to  myself,  I'll  jest  go  down  to  the  pond  where 
their  boats  is,  an'  I'll  take  the  best  one  of  'em 
an'  cl'ar  out  afore  they  gets  back.  Then  I'd 
have  somethin'  to  do  with." 

"  Where  would  you  go  ? " 

"  Up  to  Injun  Lake.  I'm  the  bulliest  kind 
of  a  guide  fur  that  neck  of  the  woods,  an'  so's 
my  two  boys  ;  but  you  see  we  ain't  got  no 
boats,  an'  we're  too  poor  to  buy  'em." 

"Why  don't  you  go  to  the  hotels  and  hire 
out  to  them?"  demanded  Tom;  and  then  he 
wondered  if  there  were  a  landlord  in  the  world 
who  would  trust  a  boat-load  of  passengers, 
ladies  and  children  for  instance,  to  the  care  of 
the  walking  whisky  barrel  he  saw  before  him. 

"Didn't  I  try  that  very  thing  down  there  " 
another  backward  jerk  of  the  head — "  an'  didn'  t 
they  tell  me  that  they  didn't  have  no  use  fur 
sich  lookin'  fellers  as  me  an'  my  boys  was?" 
exclaimed  Matt  Coyle,  fiercely.  "  They  did 
fur  a  fact.  But  if  I  had  a  boat  of  my  own  I 
could  go  up  to  Injun  Lake  where  they  ain't  so 


178  JOE  WAYRING  AT  HOME. 

particular  about  the  clothes  a  man  wears,  so 
long  as  he  understands  his  business,  an'  I'd. 
make  piles  of  money,  too;  'cause  why — I'd 
work  fur  less'n  the  reg'lar  hotel  guides. 
See?" 

"  Yes,  I  see  ;  but  how  long  would  it  be  before 
the  regular  guides  would  run  you  out,  the  same 
as  the  Mount  Airy  people  did  1  They  would 
make  the  country  so  hot  for  you  that  you 
couldn't  stay  there." 

"  Suppos  'n  they  tried  that  little  game  on  ? " 
answered  Matt,  laying  down  his  rifle  long 
enough  to  shake  both  his  huge  fists  in  the  air. 
"Ain't  that  somethin'  that  two  can  play  at  ? 
I'd  break  up  the  business  of  guidin'  in  less'n 
two  seasons." 

u  How  would  you  do  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  would,"  Matt  went  on.  "  If  I  only 
had  a  boat  that  was  easy  to  slip  around  in  an' 
light  to  tote  over  the  carries,  I'd  make  the 
folks  who  come  there  fur  fun  so  sick  of  them 
woods  that  they  wouldn't  never  come  there  no 
more  ;  then  what  would  become  of  them  two 
big  hotels  when  there  wasn't  no  custom  to 
run  'em?" 


THE   SQUATTER  TUJUSTS    UP   AGAIN.          179 

"  How  would  you  go  about  it?"  repeated 
Tom. 

"  Oh,  there's  plenty  of  ways,"  answered  the 
squatter,  shaking  his  head  knowingly. 

"  Give  us  one  of  them." 

"  Wai,  s'pos'n  I  should  see  a  big  party,  with 
childern  among 'em,  start  out  from  one  of  them 
hotels  as  big  as  life,  an'  I  should  foller  along 
after  'em.  easy  like,  an'  some  day,  when  there 
wasn't  no  men  folks  about,  I  should  slip  up, 
grab  one  of  them  childern  an' run  him  off  to  the 
mountains  ?  An'  s'  pos'  n  one  of  my  boys  should 
happen  to  be  loafin'  around  that  hotel  when  the 
party  come  back  without  the  child,  an'  should 
hear  that  a  reward  of  a  hunderd,  mebbe  two 
hunderd  dollars  had  been  offered  fur  his  safe 
return  ?  Couldn't  my  boy  easy  hunt  me  up, 
an'  couldn't  I  tote  that  young  un  back  to  his 
pap  an'  claim  them  dollars  ?  Eh  ?  " 

Tom  was  so  astounded  that  he  could  say 
nothing  in  reply.  Matt  Coyle  was  a  great  deal 
worse  than  he  thought  he  was.  The  squatter 
saw  that  his  solitary  auditor  was  interested, 
and  went  on  to  tell  of  another  way  in  which  he 
could  break  up  the  business  of  guiding  in  the 


180  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

wilderness  about  Indian  Lake,  in  case  the  peo- 
ple living  there  didn't  treat  him  and  his  family 
as  well  as  Matt  thought  they  ought  to  be 
treated. 

"  Or  s'pos'n  there  wasn't  no  childern  into  the 
party,"  said  he.  "  There' d  be  fine  guns  an' 
fish  poles  an'  lots  of  nice  grub,  in  course  ;  an' 
couldn't  I  slip  up  to  their  camp  when  there 
wasn't  no  body  there  to  watch  it,  an'  tote  some 
of  them  guns  an'  things  off  into  the  bresh  an' 
hide 'em?  Oh,  there's  plenty  of  ways  to  bust 
up  guidin'  an'  them  big  hotels  along  with  it. 
They  would  think  twice  before  bein'  too  rough 
on  me,  'cause  they  know  me  up  there  to  Injun 
Lake." 

And  the  man  might  have  added  that  that 
was  the  very  reason  they  drove  him  away  from 
there — because  they  knew  him. 

"But  the  trouble  is,  I  ain't  got  no  boat  of 
my  own  to  run  about  with.  The  punt,  she's 
too  heavy,  an'  I  ain't  got  no  other,"  continued 
Matt  Coyle  ;  and  then  he  stopped  and  looked 
hard  at  Tom,  and  Tom,  in  return,  looked  hard 
at  Matt.  An  idea  came  into  his  head  ;  or,  to 
speak  more  in  accordance  with  the  facts,  Tom 


THE   SQUATTER  TURNS   UP   AGAIN".          181 

suddenly  recalled  some  words  which  the  squat- 
ter had  let  fall  at  the  beginning  of  their  inter- 
view. 

"You  said  you  were  on  your  way  to  the 
pond  to  pick  out  a  boat  when  you  met  me," 
said  Tom.  "  Well,  why  don't  you  go  ahead 
and  get  it  ?  There  is  one  among  them  that 
will  just  suit  your  purpose.  It  is  a  canvas 
canoe.  It  is  very  light,  and  you  can  pack  it 
across  a  four  mile  portage  without  any  trouble 
at  all.  If  you  don't  want  to  do  that,  you  can 
take  it  to  pieces  and  carry  it  in  your  hand  as 
you  would  a  grip-sack.  It  will  hold  up  eight 
hundred  pounds,  and  you  can't  over-turn  it  by 
rocking  it  from  side  to  side." 

"Who  belongs  to  it?"  inquired  Matt,  who 
had  never  heard  of  such  a  craft  before. 

"Joe  Wayring  ;  and  his  father  is  one  of  the 
Mount  Airy  trustees.  Your  house  was  on  his 
land,  and  if  Mr.  Wayring  had  said  the  word, 
you  might  have  been  living  happily  there  now, 
with  plenty  to  do  in  the  way  of  boating  and 
guiding  and  with  money  in  your  pocket,"  said 
Tom,  hoping  that  this  reference  to  Mr.  Way- 
ring  and  the  influence  he  might  have  exerted  in 


182  JOE  WAYRING  AT   HOME. 

Matt's  behalf,  if  he  had  seen  fit  to  do  so,  would 
make  the  squatter  angry,  and  awaken  in  him  a 
desire  to  be  revenged  on  the  son  since  he  could 
not  harm  the  father  in  any  way.  The  plan 
succeeded  admirably.  Matt  laid  his  rifle  on  the 
ground  so  that  he  could  shake  both  his  fists, 
and  the  oaths  and  threats  he  uttered  when  he 
had  thus  relieved  himself  of  all  incumbrance, 
were  frightful  to  hear.  He  did  not  yell,  as  he 
would  like  to  have  done,  for  he  knew  that  the 
boys  who  had  gone  in  pursuit  of  the  bear  were 
not  far  away  ;  but  he  hissed  out  the  words 
between  his  clenched  teeth,  and  kicked  and 
trampled  down  the  bushes  in  his  rage. 

"I'd  take  the  boat  now,  even  if  I  knowed  it 
wouldn't  be  of  no  use  to  me,"  said  he,  as 
soon  as  he  could  speak.  "It'll  cost  ole  man 
Wayring  five  an'  mebbe  twenty  dollars  to  buy 
him  another — " 

"More  than  that,"  said  Tom.  "A  good 
deal  more." 

"Wai,  it'll  be  jest  that  much  out  of  his 
pocket  whatever  it  is,"  answered  Matt  Coyle. 
"  Where  did  you  say  them  boats  was  ?  " 

"  Right  down  there  on  the  beach,"  replied 


THE   SQUATTER  TURNS    UP   AGAIN.          183 

Tom,  indicating  the  direction  with  his  finger. 
4 'You  know  which  one  I  mean,  don't  you? 
You're  sure  you  can  tell  a  canvas  canoe  from 
a  Shadow  or  a  Rob  Roy  ?  " 

"  Am  I  sure  that  I  can  tell  a  pipe  from  a  shot 
gun?"  retorted  Matt. 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  you  can  do  that,  but  I  am 
not  so  positive  that  you  can  tell  one  canoe 
from  another,"  answered  Tom.  "Of  course  it 
wouldn'  t  be  safe  for  me  to  go  down  to  the 
beach  with  you,  for  if  Joe  should  happen  to  be 
anywhere  within  sight,  I'd  be  in  a  pretty  fix. 
You  may  be  sure  I  shall  not  so  much  as  hint 
that  I  saw  you  here  in  the  woods,  and  you 
mustn't  lisp  it  to  a  living  person." 

"  Course  not,"  said  Matt.  "  Mum's  the  word 
between  gentlemen." 

Tom  could  scarcely  restrain  an  exclamation 
of  disgust.  It  looked  as  though  this  blear- 
eyed  ragamuffin  considered  himself  quite  as 
good  as  the  boy  he  was  talking  to. 

"Take  the  canoe  just  as  it  stands,"  contin- 
ued Tom,  "  and  you  will  find  a  good  lunch  as 
well  as  a  fine  fishing-rod  in  it.  Be  lively  now, 
for  Joe  may  come  back  at  any  moment.  I'll 


184  JOE   WAYRING   AT  HOME. 

keep  out  of  sight,  for  of  course  I  don't  want  to 
know  any  thing  about  it." 

"  I  don't  care  fur  them  new-fangled  poles 
what's  got  a  silver  windlass  ontothe  ends  of 
'em,  an'  I  wouldn't  tech  it  if  I  didn't  think  I 
could  sell  it  to  somebody  ;  but  I'll  go  fur  the 
grub,  I  tell  you." 

So  saying  Matt  Coyle  went  through  with  some 
contortions  with  the  left  side  of  his  face  which 
were,  no  doubt,  intended  for  a  friendly  farewell 
wink,  and  stole  off  toward  the  beach ;  while 
Tom  turned  and  walked  away  in  the  opposite 
direction.  When  he  thought  he  had  put  a  safe 
distance  between  himself  and  the  pond,  he  sat 
down  to  await  developments.  Nor  was  he 
obliged  to  wait  long.  A  rifle  cracked  away  off  to 
the  left  of  his  place  of  concealment,  then  a  shot 
gun  roared,  and  presently  voices  came  to  him 
from  the  depths  of  the  forest.  Joe  and  his  com- 
panions had  given  up  the  chase,  and  were  now  on 
their  way  back  to  the  pond,  shooting  squir- 
rels as  they  came.  Tom  knew  when  they 
passed  by  within  less  than  a  hundred  yards  of 
him,  and  he  knew,  too,  that  they  were  sur- 
prised because  they  did  not  meet  him  in  the 


THE   SQUATTER  TUR^S   UP   AGAIN.          185 

woods  or  find  him  on  the  beach,  for  they  set  up 
a  series  of  dismal  whoops  as  soon  as  they 
reached  the  waters  edge. 

"Now  for  it,"  thought  Tom,  drawing  his 
hand  over  his  face  and  looking  as  innocent 
as  though  he  had  never  been  guilty  of 
a  mean  act  in  his  life.  "I've  got  to  meet  them 
some  time,  and  it  might  as  well  be  now  as  an 
hour  later.  Whoop-pee!  "  he  yelled  in  an- 
swer to  the  shouts  that  were  sent  up  from  the 
shore  of  the  pond. 

Tom's  ears  also  told  him  when  Joe  Wayring 
first  discovered  that  his  canvas  canoe  was  miss- 
ing. The  yells  suddenly  ceased,  and  Tom 
heard  no  more  from  Joe  and  his  companions 
until  he  came  out  of  the  woods  and  halted  on 
the  beach  a  short  distance  from  the  place  where 
they  were  standing.  They  were  gathered  in  a 
group  around  Roy  Sheldon,  who  was  bent  over 
with  his  hands  on  his  knees,  and  his  eyes  fas- 
tened upon  a  foot-print  in  the  mud.  They 
were  listening  so  eagerly  to  something  Roy 
was  saying,  that  Tom  walked  up  within  reach 
of  them  before  any  of  the  group  knew  that  he 
was  about. 


180  JOE   WAYRING  AT   HOME. 

"  What  have  you  found  that  is  so  very  inter- 
esting ? ' '  inquired  Tom,  who  knew  that  he 
ought  to  open  the  conversation  in  some  way. 

"Oh,  here  you  are,"  exclaimed  Hastings. 
"  We  could  not  imagine  what  had  become  of 
you.  Until  we  heard  you  call  out  there  in  the 
woods,  we  supposed  that  the  bear  had  come 
back,  and  that  you  had  gone  after  him  in  Joe's 
boat." 

"  Not  by  a  long  shot !  "  cried  Tom,  who  saw 
very  plainly  what  Arthur  was  driving  at.  "  I 
haven't  seen  the  bear  since  I  lost  sight  of  you, 
and  if  I  had,  I  should  have  gone  away  from  him 
and  not  toward  him.  I  have  no  ambition  to 
shine  as  a  bear  hunter,  and  consequently  I  am 
here  safe  and  sound." 

"But  Joe's  canoe  isn't,"  said  Roy. 

Tom  looked,  and  sure  enough  the  place 
where  Joe  had  left  his  boat  when  he  went  into 
the  woods  was  vacant.  With  much  apparent 
anxiety  and  uneasiness  he  turned  toward  his 
canoe  as  if  to  satisfy  himself  that  his  own 
treasures  were  safe,  when  Roy  broke  out 
with— 

"  Oh,  you're  a  sufferer  the  same  as  the  rest 


THE   SQUATTER  TURNS    UP   AGAIN.          187 

of  us.  Your  lunch  and  your  fine  bait-rod 
have  gone  off  to  keep  Joe's  canoe  company. 
He  took  all  our  rods  and  his  pick  of  the  fish, 
too,  and  it  is  a  great  wonder  to  me  that  he  was 
good  enough  to  leave  us  our  paddles." 

Tom  was  really  surprised  now,  and  he  was 
deeply  in  earnest  when  he  said  : 

"  If  I  ever  meet  the  man  who  did  that  I'll  have 
him  arrested  if  I  can  find  any  one  to  make  out 
a  warrant  for  him."  Then  suddenly  recollect- 
ing that  he  was  not  supposed  to  know  who  the 
thief  was,  he  added :  ' '  Do  you  suspect  any 
body  ?  " 

"No,  we  don't  suspect ;  we  know,"  answered 
Joe.  "  Look  at  that!" 

"  Can  you  tell  a  man's  name  by  looking  at 
the  print  of  his  foot  in  the  mud?"  asked 
Tom. 

"  I  can  tell  that  man's  name,  for  I  know  how 
he  was  shod  the  last  time  I  saw  him,"  replied 
Joe.  "  It  was  Matt  Coyle.  He  made  a  good 
many  threats  before  he  left  the  village,  and  he 
has  begun  to  carry  them  out  already.  He  has 
put  up  his  shanty  somewhere  in  the  vicinity 
of  this  pond,  and  will  make  it  his  business  to 


188  JOE   WAYRING   AT  HOME. 

do  some  damage  to  every  hunting  and  fishing 
party  that  comes  here." 

"Well,  what  are  we  standing  here  for?" 
exclaimed  Tom,  who  had  expected  before  this 
time  to  hear  somebody  propose  an  immediate 
pursuit  of  the  robber. 

"  We  might  as  well  stay  here  and  take  it 
easy,  as  to  get  wild  and  rush  around  through 
the  woods  for  nothing,"  replied  Joe  ;  and  Tom 
was  surprised  to  see  how  ready  he  was  to  give 
his  boat  up  for  lost.  "  In  the  first  place,  we 
couldn't  overtake  the  robber,  and  in  the 
second,  we  couldn'  t  recover  our  property  if  we 
did.  The  day  of  reckoning  will  surely  come, 
but  we  can't  do  any  thing  to  hasten  it." 

The  idea  that  the  squatter  would  disturb 
any  of  the  things  in  the  other  canoes  had  never 
entered  into  Tom's  mind.  Matt  seemed  to 
remember,  with  as  much  gratitude  as  such  a 
man  was  capable  of,  that  Tom  was  one  of  the 
few  who  sympathized  with  him  when  he  was 
ordered  out  of  Mount  Airy,  and  yet  he  had 
made  little  distinction  between  his  property 
and  that  belonging  to  the  sons  of  the  trustees 
who  ordered  him  away.  There  was  no  sham 


THE   SQUATTER  TURNS   UP  AGAIN.          189 

about  his  rage.  He  was  angry  because  his 
elegant  rod  and  German  silver  bass  reel  had 
disappeared,  and  because  he  knew  that  he 
would  never  dare  have  Matt  Coyle  arrested  for 
the  theft.  If  the  latter  should  go  before  a 
magistrate  and  repeat  the  words  that  had 
passed  between  Tom  and  himself  not  more  than 
half  an  hour  ago,  wouldn't  he  be  in  a  pretty 
scrape  ?  He  was  in  one  already,  for  the  squat- 
ter had  a  hold  upon  him,  and  subsequent  events 
proved  that  Matt  knew  how  to  use  it  to  his 
own  advantage. 


CHAPTER  X. 

FOKEST  COOKERY. 

"I    TOW  in  the  world  did  you  manage  to 

_I — L  get  separated  from  us  so  quickly  ?  " 
asked  Roy,  addressing  himself  to  Tom  Bigden. 
"  The  last  time  I  saw  you>  you  were  bringing 
up  the  rear  all  right,  but  when  we  lost  the 
trail  and  stopped  to  hold  a  consultation,  you 
were  not  to  be  seen." 

Tom  had  been  expecting  this,  and  he  was 
ready  with  his  answer.  Pointing  to  his  boots, 
which  he  had  purposely  stuck  into  a  mud-hole, 
shortly  after  his  companions  left  him,  he  said  : 

' '  I  got  mired  in  the  swamp,  and  by  the  time 
I  could  crawl  out  and  pour  the  water  from  my 
boots,  you  had  left  me  so  far  behind  that  I 
could  neither  see  nor  hear  any  thing  of  you. 
If  I  had  come  directly  back  to  the  pond  instead 
of  wasting  time  in  looking  for  you,  I  might 


FOREST   COOKERY.  191 

have  been  able  to  stop  Matt  Coyle's  raid  on 
our  canoes." 

"  I  doubt  it  very  much,"  replied  Joe  Way- 
ring.  "  No  doubt  Matt  has  been  watching  us 
all  the  morning  and  waiting  for  us  to  come 
ashore  so  that  he  could  steal  something,  and  I 
believe  he  would  have  made  his  '  raid '  if  we 
had  all  been  here  to  oppose  him.  As  it  was,  he 
had  full  swing,  and  there  are  none  of  us  hurt." 

"That's  my  idea,"  said  Arthur.  "Judging 
by  his  countenance  Matt  is  a  bad  man  and  a 
desperate  one.  Well,  we  have  lost  our  rods 
and  reels,  which  must  be  worth  considerably 
more  than  a  hundred  dollars,  but  we  have 
learned  one  thing,  that  we  ought  to  profit  by, 
and  another  that  we  can  use  to  our  advantage. 
To  begin  with,  so  long  as  Matt  Coyle  is  allowed 
to  stay  about  in  this  neck  of  the  woods — " 

"  And  I  guess  he'll  stay  here  as  long  as  he 
has  a  mind  to,"  observed  Roy. 

"  Well,  I  guess  he  won't,"  retorted  Arthur. 

' '  I  know  what  you  mean, ' '  said  Roy.  ' '  You 
mean  that  the  arm  of  the  law  is  strong  enough 
to  snatch  him  out  of  the  swamp.  I  don't  dis- 
pute it.  The  trouble  is  going  to  be  to  get  hold 


192  JOE  WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

of  him.  If  he  finds  the  low  lands  getting  too 
warm  for  him,  he  will  take  to  the  mountains  ; 
and  you  know  that  there  are  a  good  many 
places  among  them  where  a  white  man  has 
never  yet  set  his  foot." 

"He'll  come  out,  all  the  same,"  answered 
Arthur  ;  ' '  but  as  long  as  he  stays  around, 
Sherwin's  Pond  is  no  place  for  hunting  and 
fishing  parties,  unless  they  bring  some  one 
with  them  to  watch  the  camp  while  they  are 
rambling  about  in  the  woods.  We  must  warn 
the  hotel  people  as  soon  as  we  get  back  to 
town." 

"You  said  there  was  something  we  could 
use  to  our  advantage,"  suggested  Joe. 

' '  Yes.  We  can  see  any  amount  of  sport 
here  this  fall  with  the  grouse.  We  flushed  a 
lot  of  them  while  we  were  gone,"  he  added, 
turning  to  Tom,  "but  of  course  we  didn't  shoot 
at  them." 

"  Why  not  ?  "  inquired  the  latter. 

"Why,  because  the  close  season  isn't  over 
yet,  and  the  birds  are  protected  by  law." 

Tom  and  his  cousins  had  nothing  to  say,  but 
they  wondered  if  Arthur  Hastings  always 


FOREST   COOKERY.  193 

obeyed  the  game  laws  when  he  was  alone  in  the 
woods.  They  had.  not  much  respect  for  him  if 
he  did.  They  could  not  lay  claim  to  any  great 
skill  themselves.  An  October  grouse  on  the 
wing  would  have  been  as  safe  from  harm  a 
dozen  yards  away  from  the  muzzles  of  their 
double-barrels,  as  though  he  had  been  on  the 
other  side  of  the  globe.  They  always  killed 
their  game  sitting  ;  and  they  would  shoot  at  a 
robin  as  soon  as  they  would  shoot  at  a  wild 
turkey. 

"We  didn't  come  down  here , to  go  home 
hungry,"  said  Joe,  pointing  to  a  bunch  of 
squirrels  that  lay  at  the  foot  of  the  nearest 
tree.  "We' 11  have  two  courses  to  our  dinner 
or  breakfast,  or  whatever  you  call  a  meal  eaten 
at  this  time  of  day,  and  there's  plenty  of  water 
in  the  spring  to  wash  it  down  with." 

The  boys  were  all  hungry,  and  there  was 
nothing  appetizing  in  looking  forward  to  a 
breakfast  of  meat  and  fish.  Joe  Wayring  and 
his  friends  did  not  mind  it,  for  they  had  eaten 
many  such  meals  during  their  vacation  wander- 
ings in  the  woods ;  but  Tom  Bigden  was  not 
much  accustomed  to  roughing  it,  and  he  con- 


194  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

demned  the  squatter  almost  as  bitterly  for 
walking  off  with  the  hard-boiled  eggs,  sardines, 
canned  fruit  and  bottle  of  cold  coffee,  which  he 
had  provided  as  his  share  of  the  common 
dinner,  as  he  did  for  stealing  his  fishing-rod. 

"  When  Matt  opens  my  bundle  and  finds  all 
that  buttered  tissue  paper  in  it  I  guess  he'll 
wonder,"  said  Joe,  as  he  stepped  into  Roy's 
canoe  and  picked  up  one  of  the  joints  of  the 
double  paddle.  "He  won't  know  what  I 
intended  to  do  with  it ;  do  you,  Bigden  ? " 

After  a  little  reflection  Tom  concluded  that 
he  couldn't  tell  what  use  the  buttered  tissue 
paper  could  be  put  to,  unless  Joe  intended  to 
start  a  fire  with  it,  and  the  latter  went  on  to 
explain. 

"We  always  take  a  supply  with  us  as  a  sub- 
stitute for  a  frying-pan,"  said  he.  "After 
cleaning  the  fish  in  good  shape,  we  wrap  him 
up  in  this  tissue  paper,  and  then  add  three  or 
four  thicknesses  of  wet  brown  paper.  In  the 
meantime,  the  fellow  whose  business  it  is  to 
see  to  the  fire  has  taken  care  to  have  a  nice  bed 
of  coals  ready.  We  rake  these  coals  apart, 
put  in  the  fish,  and  cover  him  up  so  quickly 


FOREST   COOKERY.  195 

that  the  paper  around  him  has  no  time  to  get 
afire,  and  there  he  stays  until  he  is  done. 
Then  we  poke  him  out,  and  when  the  paper  is 
taken  off  the  skin  and  scales  come  with  it ;  and 
if  you  relish  a  well-cooked  fish,  there  he  is." 

"But  how  do  you  know  when  the  fish  is 
done  ? ' '  asked  Ralph. 

"A  potato  is  as  good  a  clock  as  you  want  to 
go  by,"  answered  Joe. 

"A  potato  ?  "  repeated  Ralph. 

"  Yes.  I  brought  several  with  me,  intending 
to  put  them  on  the  table  after  they  had  done 
duty  as  clocks,  but  they  have  gone  off  with  the 
sugar,  lemons  and  other  good  things  I  had  in 
my  bundle.  As  soon  as  your  fish  is  covered 
up  in  the  coals,"  continued  Joe,  "put  your 
potatoes  in  alongside  of  him  and  cover  them 
up  also.  You  can  test  them  with  a  sharp  stick 
at  any  time,  and  when  they  are  done,  which 
will  be  at  the  end  of  half  an  hour,  if  your  fire 
is  just  right,  poke  them  out,  break  them  open 
and  place  them  on  a  flat  stone  which  you  have 
previously  washed,  to  cool.  Then  poke  out 
your  fish,  take  off  the  wrappings  and  fall  to 
work.  But  we  shall  have  to  use  boards  this 


190  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

trip — there  are  plenty  of  them  lying  around 
loose  on  the  point,  unless  Matt  Coyle  has  car- 
ried them  off  to  patch  up  his  shanty — and 
make  our  noses  do  duty  as  clocks." 

Tom  did  not  understand  this,  either  ;  but 
believing  that  he  had  made  a  sufficient  airing 
of  his  ignorance  of  woodcraft  for  one  day,  at 
least,  he  asked  no  more  questions. 

Half  an  hour's  steady  paddling  brought  the 
boys  to  the  point,  on  which  they  landed  to 
prepare  their  meager  breakfast.  That  it  was  a 
favorite  resort  for  parties  like  their  own  was 
evident.  Beds  of  ashes  surrounding  the  mossy 
bowlder  from  beneath  which  the  spring  bubbled 
up,  marked  the  places  where  roaring  camp- 
fires  had  once  been  built,  and  the  empty  fruit 
and  meat  cans  that  had  been  tossed  into  the 
bushes  told  what  good  dinners  had  been  eaten 
there. 

Joe  Wayring  at  once  set  off  to  hunt  up  a 
couple  of  suitable  boards,  another  started  a 
lire,  two  more  fell  to  work  upon  the  fish  and 
squirrels,  and  the  rest  found  employment  in 
gathering  a  supply  of  fuel,  and  providing  birch- 
bark  plates  and  platters.  Although  Tom  and 


FOREST   COOKERY.  197 

his  cousins  did  their  full  share  of  the  work, 
they  did  not  neglect  to  keep  an  eye  on  their 
more  experienced  companions  ;  and  they  were 
astonished  to  see  how  easily  one  can  get  on 
without  a  good  many  things  which  the  major- 
ity of  people  seem  to  think  necessary  to  their 
very  existence.  When  the  fish  had  been 
cleaned  and  washed  in  the  pond,  they  were 
spread  out  flat  and  fastened  with  wooden  pins 
to  the  boards,  which  were  propped  up  in  front 
of  the  fire  ;  while  the  squirrels  were  impaled 
upon  forked  sticks  and  held  over  the  coals  by 
Arthur  Hastings  and  Roy,  who  turned  first 
one  side  and  then  the  other  to  the  heat,  until 
they  were  done  to  a  delicious  brown. 

"  If  Matt  Coyle  had  only  been  good  enough 
to  leave  us  the  bacon,  which  I  was  careful  to 
have  put  up  with  my  lunch,  these  squirrels 
would  be  much  better  than  they  are  going  to 
be,"  said  Arthur,  addressing  himself  to  Ralph, 
who  manifested  the  greatest  interest  in  this 
rude  forest  cookery.  ' '  Their  meat  is  rather 
dry,  you  know,  and  a  strip  of  nice  fat  bacon 
pinned  to  each  side  of  them  would  furnish  the 
necessary  grease — that  isn't  a  very  elegant 


198  JOE  WAYRING   AT  HOME. 

word,  I  know,  but  it  expresses  my  meaning  all 
the  same — and  give  them  a  flavor  also.  It 
would  make  the  fish  more  palatable,  too.  My 
advice  to  you  is,  always  take  a  chunk  of  bacon 
with  you  if  you  are  going  to  cook  your  dinner 
in  the  woods." 

"  What's  he  doing?"  inquired  Ralph,  nod- 
ding toward  Joe  Wayring,  who  stood  around 
with  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  now  and  then 
elevating  his  chin  and  sniffing  the  air  like  a 
pointer  that  had  struck  a  fresh  scent. 

Arthur  laughed  heartily. 

"Joe's  timing  the  fish,"  was  his  reply. 
"  When  they  smell  so  good  that  he  can't  wait 
any  longer,  he  will  know  they  are  done  ;  and 
then  dinner  will  be  ready.  It's  rather  a 
novel  way,  I  confess,  but  Joe  hits  it  every 
pop." 

This  was  the  first  time  that  Tom  and  his 
cousins  had  ever  sat  down  to  a  meal  that  was 
composed  of  nothing  but  fish  and  meat,  but  it 
tasted  much  better  than  they  thought  it  would. 
Perhaps  the  reason  was  because  they  were 
hungry.  At  any  rate  they  disposed  of  all  that 
was  placed  before  them,  and  would  have  asked 


FOREST   COOKERY.  199 

for  another  piece  of  squirrel  if  there  had  been 
any  more  on  the  big  slice  of  bark  that  did  duty 
as  a  platter. 

"  This  meal  will  give  you  an  idea  of  what  we 
could  have  done  if  that  squatter  had  not 
stumbled  on  our  canoes  while  we  were  after 
that  bear,"  said  Roy,  who  stood  holding  the 
empty  platter  in  one  hand  and  his  light  bird 
gun  in  the  other.  As  he  spoke,  he  sent  the 
platter  flying  over  the  pond,  and  broke  it  into 
inch  pieces  by  the  two  charges  of  shot  he  put 
into  it  before  it  struck  the  water.  "What's 
the  next  thing  on  the  programme  ?  "  he  con- 
tinued. "I  don't  much  like  the  idea  of  under- 
taking that  long  carry  during  the  heat  of  the 
day,  but  I  don't  see  what  else  we  can  do  unless 
we  are  willing  to  stay  here  and  be  idle  for 
hours  to  come.  We  can't  fish  any  more,  that's 
certain.  We  haven't  brought  our  long  bows 
with  us,  and  who  wants  to  shoot  squirrels  with 
a  shot  gun  ?  Not  I,  for  one." 

There  was  no  debate  upon  the  question  Roy 
had  raised.  They  had  their  choice  between 
going  home,  and  staying  where  they  were  until 
the  sun  sank  out  of  sight  behind  the  mount- 


200  JOE   WAYEING   AT   HOME. 

ains ;  and  they  were  not  long  in  making  up 
their  minds  what  they  would  do.  When  Joe 
Wayring  picked  up  his  gun  and  stepped  into 
Roy's  canoe  (it  was  a  Rice  Laker,  and  not 
being  decked  over,  it  could  easily  accommo- 
date him  and  its  owner),  the  others  got  into 
theirs,  and  the  fleet  started  toward  the  upper 
end  of  the  pond. 

We  have  said  that  Mirror  Lake  and  Sher- 
win's  Pond  were  fifteen  miles  apart,  and  that 
there  were  about  twelve  miles  of  rapids  in  the 
stream  by  which  they  were  connected.  This, 
of  course,  would  leave  three  miles  of  still  water  ; 
but  the  trouble  was,  it  could  not  be  made  use  of 
by  any  one  going  from  the  pond  to  the  lake. 
At  every  one  of  the  points  at  which  the  rapids 
ceased  and  the  stretches  of  still  water  began, 
the  banks  were  high  and  steep,  and  so 
densely  covered  with  briers  and  bushes  that 
the  most  active  boy  would  have  found  it  a  diffi- 
cult task  to  work  his  way  to  the  water's  edge, 
and  an  impossible  one  if  he  had  a  canoe  on  his 
back.  This  being  the  case  our  six  friends  had 
a  long  portage  (they  generally  called  it  a 
i 'carry")  to  look  forward  to;  but  three  of 


FOREST  COOKERY.  201 

them,  at  least,  went  at  it  as  they  went  at  every 
thing  else  that  was  hard — with  the  determina- 
tion to  do  it  at  once  and  have  it  over  with. 
Arthur  Hastings  went  first  with  his  little  Rob 
Roy  on  his  back,  Joe  Wayring  followed  close 
behind  him  with  all  the  guns  and  paddles  he 
could  carry  (the  rest  of  them  were  lashed  fast 
in  the  cock-pits  so  that  they  would  not  fall  out 
when  the  canoes  were  turned  bottom  up),  and 
they  led  their  companions  nearly  a  third  of  the 
distance  before  they  put  down  their  loads 
and  leaned  up  against  a  tree  to  rest. 

"This  is  my  last  visit  to  Sherwin's  pond 
this  season,"  panted  Arthur,  as  he  drew  his 
handkerchief  from  his  pocket  and  wiped  the  big 
drops  of  perspiration  from  his  forehead.  "  It' s 
too  much  sugar  for  a  cent — altogether  too 
much. " 

"  Every  time  you  come  through  here  on  a 
hot  day  you  say  the  same  thing,"  observed  Joe. 

"  I  know  it ;  but  I  am  in  dead  earnest  now. 
The  game  isn't  worth  the  candle." 

"What's  the  matter?  Are  you  sorry  that 
you  didn't  smash  your  canoe  in  the  rapids?" 
asked  Roy. 


202  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

"Or  didn't  you  catch  fish  enough  to  suit 
you  ?  "  chimed  in  Ralph. 

"  Perhaps  he  is  disgusted  because  lie  didn't 
shoot  that  bear,"  said  Joe. 

"It's  hard  work,"  repeated  Arthur.  "  The 
fun  of  running  the  rapids,  catching  a  nice 
string  of  bass  and  seeing  a  bear,  does  not 
repay  one  for  the  horrors  of  this  fifteen  mile 
carry.  It  is  worse  for  me  to-day  than  it  ever 
was  before,  because  we  have  been  so  very 
unlucky.  We  have  used  our  rods  for  the  last 
time,  and  Joe  will  never  see  his  canvas  canoe 
again." 

This  was  the  way  in  which  Arthur  and  his 
two  friends  referred  to  their  losses  whenever 
they  referred  to  them  at  all.  There  was  no 
unreasonable  exhibition  of  rage,  such  as  Tom 
Bigden  would  have  been  glad  to  indulge  in,  if 
lie  could  have  found  the  least  excuse  for  so 
doing. 

If  Tom  had  possessed  even  the  semblance  of 
a  heart,  it  would  have  smote  him  when  he  saw 
how  patiently  Joe  and  his  chums  bore  up  under 
their  misfortunes.  If  Matt  Coyle  had  turned 
the  matter  over  in  his  mind  for  a  whole  month, 


FOREST   COOKEEY.  203 

he  could  not  have  hit  upon  any  thing  that  was  so 
well  calculated  to  render  these  three  boys 
miserable,  as  was  the  piece  of  villainy  which 
he  had  that  day  carried  out  at  the  suggestion 
of  Tom  Bigden.  Tom  was  glad  of  one  thing : 
His  companions  did  not  ask  him  any  questions, 
and  consequently  he  was  not  obliged  to  tell 
them  any  lies. 

The  boys  rested  a  good  many  times  while 
they  were  on  the  carry,  and  when  at  last  they 
launched  their  canoes  on  the  broad  bosom  of  the 
lake  they  were  so  weary  and  devoid  of  ambition, 
that  it  was  a  task  for  them  to  paddle  down  to 
the  boat-houses  ;  but,  like  their  arduous  jour- 
ney across  the  portage,  it  was  accomplished  at 
last  by  steady  and  persevering  effort,  and  when 
they  separated  near  the  middle  of  the  lake  and 
pulled  away  toward  their  respective  homes, 
they  told  one  another  that  the  next  time  they 
went  down  to  the  pond  they  would  see  to  it 
that  Matt  Coyle  had  no  chance  to  spoil  their 
day's  sport. 

' '  There' s  something  about  that  business  that 
don't  look  just  right  to  me,"  said  Ralph  Farns- 
worth,  as  soon  as  Joe  and  his  friends  were  out 


204  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

of  hearing.  "  I  don't  mind  my  own  loss,  but  I 
am  really  sorry  for  Joe  Wayring." 

"  So  am  I,"  said  Loren.  "He  prized  that 
canoe  very  highly.  I  believe  lie  would  rather 
have  lost  his  handsome  breech-loader.  I  tell 
you  we  made  a  mistake  in  having  any  thing  to 
do  with  George  Prime.  Wayring  and  his 
crowd  are  much  the  better  lot  of  fellows." 

These  remarks  settled  one  thing  to  Tom 
Bigden's  satisfaction.  Ever  since  his  inter- 
view with  the  squatter  he  had  been  asking  him- 
self whether  or  not  he  ought  to  take  his 
cousins  into  his  confidence,  and  now  he  knew 
that  he  had  better  not.  He  was  afraid,  as  well 
as  ashamed,  to  show  them  how  far  his  unrea- 
sonable enmity  toward  Joe  Wayring  had  led 
him,  and  so  he  said  nothing. 

Great  was  the  indignation  among  some  of 
the  Mount  Airy  people  when  it  became  known 
that  Matt  Coyle  had  turned  up  again  when  he 
was  least  expected,  and  that  he  had  walked  off 
with  a  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  worth  of  prop- 
erty that  did  not  belong  to  him.  But  Mount 
Airy,  as  we  have  seen,  was  like  other  places  in 
that  it  numbered  among  its  inhabitants  certain 


FOKEST   COOKERY.  205 

evil-minded  and  envious  persons,  who  were 
never  so  happy  as  when  they  were  listening  to 
the  story  of  some  one's  bad  luck.  George 
Prime  and  the  boys  who  made  their  head- 
quarters in  his  father's  store  were  delighted 
to  hear  that  the  squatter  had  begun  operations 
against  Joe  and  his  chums,  and  hoped  he 
would  "  keep  it  up  "  until  he  had  stolen  or 
destroyed  every  thing  they  possessed.  They 
declared  that  they  were  sorry  for  Tom  and  his 
cousins,  but  when  they  came  to  say  that  much 
to  them  by  word  of  mouth,  as  they  did  the  next 
afternoon  when  Tom,  Ralph  and  Loren  drop- 
ped into  the  drug-store  on  their  way  to  the 
post-office,  they  did  it  in  such  a  way  that  Tom 
became  disgusted,  and  left  without  buying  the 
cigar  he  had  intended  to  ask  for. 

"The  more  I  see  of  those  fellows,  the  less  I 
like  them,"  said  Tom  ;  and  then  he  was  about 
to  open  his  battery  of  abuse  upon  Prime  and 
his  friends,  when  he  discovered  several  of  the 
Toxophilites  coming  down  the  side- walk .  "I'  11 
tell  you  what's  a  fact,  boys,"  Tom  added  in  a 
lower  tone.  "  It's  a  lucky  thing  for  us  that 
we  didn't  buy  those  cigars.  Here  conies  Miss 


206  JOE  WAYKING    AT   HOME. 

Arden  with  a  whole  crowd  of  girls,  and  there 
isn't  a  street  or  alley  that  we  could  slink  into 
if  we  had  a  weed  in  our  hands." 

The  boys  lifted  their  hats  as  the  girls  came 
up,  and  passed  on  rejoicing  over  their  escape. 
If  they  had  been  caught  in  the  act  of  smoking 
they  might  have  said  good-by  to  all  their  hopes 
of  getting  into  the  archery  club.  A  little  further 
on  they  stopped  in  front  of  the  window  of  a 
jewelry  store,  where  some  of  the  prizes  that 
were  to  be  distributed  at  the  canoe  meet  had 
been  placed  for  exhibition.  Their  three  com- 
panions of  the  previous  day  were  there,  and 
their  attention  was  concentrated  upon  a  beauti- 
ful blue  silk  flag,  trimmed  with  gold  fringe  and 
bearing  in  its  center  the  monogram  of  the  Mount 
Airy  canoe  club,  which  occupied  a  conspicu- 
ous position  among  the  prizes. 

"That's  some  of  Miss  Arden' s  handiwork," 
said  Joe  Way  ring,  after  he  had  cordially 
greeted  Tom  and  his  cousins.  "  It  is  to  go  to 
the  lirst  one  who  walks  the  greasy  pole." 

"Great  Moses!"  ejaculated  Tom.  "To 
what  base  uses — 

"That's    just    what     I    said,"    interrupted 


FOREST   COOKERY.  207 

Arthur  Hastings.  "I  told  her,  too,  that  it 
wouldn't  make  half  the  fun  the  greasy  pig  did, 
and  you  ought  to  have  seen  her  stick  up  her 
nose.  Another  thing,  now  that  I  think  of  it : 
Unless  the  wind  is  just  right,  the  flag  will 
wallop  itself  over  and  around  the  pole  until  it 
is  all  covered  with  grease." 

"  And  the  boy  who  is  lucky  enough  to  cap- 
ture it  will  have  to  take  it  into  the  water  with 
him,  and  there  is  her  elegant  prize  ruined  at 
the  start,"  chimed  in  Joe  Wayring. 

"Don't  you  think  Miss  Arden  had  wit 
enough  to  provide  for  that?"  exclaimed  Mr. 
Yale,  the  jeweler,  who  happened  to  overhear 
this  remark.  ' '  Do  you  see  that  little  flag 
beside  the  blue  one  ?  Well,  that  is  intended 
to  represent  the  prize.  If  you  are  fortunate 
enough  to  capture  that,  you  can  fly  the  blue 
pennant  at  your  masthead." 

Miss  Arden  was  right  when  she  told  her 
friends  that  she  was  sure  that  the  gallant  fel- 
lows who  belonged  to  the  canoe  club  would 
work  harder  for  her  flag  than  they  would  for  a 
greasy  pig.  Every  one  of  the  boys  who  stopped 
in  front  of  Mr.  Yale's  window  that  after- 


208  JOE   WAYEING   AT   HOME. 

noon  to  look  at  the  prizes,  told  himself  that  ii 
he  did  not  win  that  flag  it  would  be  because 
some  lucky  member  walked  off  with  it  before 
he  had  a  chance  to  try  for  it. 

During  the  next  two  weeks  little  or  nothing 
happened  in  or  about  Mount  Airy  that  is 
worthy  of  note.  A  deputy  sheriff  and  constable 
went  down  to  Sherwin's  Pond  to  arrest  Matt 
Coyle,  and,  after  a  three  days'  search  returned 
empty-handed.  They  found  the  place  where 
the  squatter  had  built  his  shanty,  but  it  was 
gone  when  they  got  there,  and  so  were  Matt 
and  his  family.  The  authorities  at  Indian 
Lake  were  requested  to  keep  a  look-out  for 
him,  but  Matt  was  too  old  a  criminal  to  be 
easily  caught.  Ile^rnd  his  boys  offered  them- 
selves as  guides  to  the  guests  of  the  hotels,  but 
when  they  were  told  that  they  were  not  wanted, 
they  set  themselves  to  work  to  carry  out  the 
programme  of  which  Matt  had  spoken  to  Tom 
Bigden  on  the  day  he  stole  Joe  Wayring's  canoe 
—that  is,  to  break  up  the  business  of  guiding 
in  the  region  about  Indian  Lake,  and  to  make 
the  people  who  came  there  for  recreation  so 
sick  of  the  woods  that  they  would  never 


FOREST   COOKERY.  209 

come  there  again.  Whether  or  not  they 
succeeded  in  their  object  shall  be  told  further 
on. 

Tom  Bigden  and  his  cousins  never  knew  how 
near  they  came  to  being  black-balled  when  their 
names  were  brought  before  the  canoe  club  at 
its  next  meeting.  Prime  and  his  friends  were 
suspicious  of  Tom.  The  latter  kept  away  from 
the  drug-store  altogether ;  he  and  his  cousins 
were  often  seen  in  Joe  Wayring's  company,  and 
Prime  said  that  looked  as  though  Tom  wasn't 
in  earnest  when  he  promised  to  assist  in  carry- 
ing out  the  arrangements  that  had  been  made 
for  defeating  Joe  and  Arthur  at  the  coming 
canoe  meet. 

"I'll  vote  for  him,"  said  Prime,  after  Noble, 
Scott,  and  one  or  two  others  had  labored  with 

• 

him  for  a  long  time,  "but  if  he  plays  us  false, 
as  I  really  think  he  means  to  do,  he  can  just 
hang  up  his  fiddle,  so  far  as  the  Toxophilites 
are  concerned.  I'  11  take  pains  to  let  Miss  Arden 
and  the  rest  of  the  girls  know  that  he  and  his 
cousins  smoke  and  play  billiards  and  cards  on 
the  sly,  and  they'll  make  dough  of  his  cake  in 
short  order." 


210  JOE  WAYRING  AT  HOME. 

"The  agony  is  over  at  last,"  said  Tom,  after 
Joe  Wayring  and  his  inseparable  companions 
Arthur  and  Roy,  who  came  over  in  the  Young 
Republic  the  next  morning  to  announce  the 
result  of  the  ballot,  had  gone  home  again. 
"Bear  in  mind,  now,  that  we  are  to  stick  to 
our  original  programme  and  win  if  we  can.  If 
we  find  that  we  have  no  show,  and  that  the 
prizes  must  go  to  Wayring  and  his  friends,  or 
to  Prime  and  his  followers,  we'll  stand  by 
Wayring  every  time.  We'll  teach  that  drug- 
store crowd  that  the  next  time  they  make  up 
a  slate  they  had  better  put  our  names  on  it  if 
they  expect  us  to  help  them." 

It  never  occurred  to  Tom  and  his  cousins  that 
possibly  Joe  Wayring,  and  all  the  other  boys 
who  believed  that  friendly  trials  of  strength 
and  skill,  like  those  that  were  to  come  off  dur- 
ing the  canoe  meet,  should  be  fairly  conducted, 
would  not  thank  them  for  their  interference. 
Joe  had  warned  all  his  friends  that  there  were 
boys  in  the  club  who  had  been  "booked"  to 
win  by  fair  means  or  foul  (of  course  he  did  not 
tell  them  where  he  got  his  information),  and 
they  made  some  pretty  shrewd  guesses  as  to 


FOREST   COOKERY.  211 

who  those  boys  were.  Being  forewarned  they 
were  forearmed,  and  they  did  not  want  any 
help.  Tom  found  it  out  on  the  day  the  races 
came  off. 


CHAPTER  XL 

THE     CANOE     MEET. 

THE  first  thing  the  members  of  the  canoe 
club  did  when  they  sprang  out  of  bed  on 
the  morning  of  the  second  day  of  August,  was 
to  run  to  the  window,  draw  aside  the  curtain 
and  take  a  look  at  the  sky  and  the  lake.  The 
one  was  cloudless,  and  the  surface  of  the  other 
was  rippled  by  a  little  breeze  which  promised, 
by  the  time  the  sun  was  an  hour  high,  to  freshen 
into  a  capital  sailing  wind.  For  all  the  mem- 
bers of  the  club  were  not  so  deeply  interested 
in  the  paddle,  portage  and  hurry-skurry  races 
as  Joe  Wayring  and  Tom  Bigden  were.  A  few 
of  them  were  expert  sailors,  and  anxious  to 
show  the  spectators  (there  would  be  more 
strangers  among  them  this  year  than  ever 
before),  how  skillfully  they  could  manage  their 
cranky  little  boats  when  they  were  under  can- 
vas. 


THE   CANOE   MEET.  213 

The  young  athletes  were  all  in  excellent 
training,  and  there  was  not  one  among  them 
who  did  not  expect  to  win  a  prize  of  more  or 
less  value  during  the  day.  Some  of  the  canoe- 
ists had  discovered  a  couple  of  Yale  college 
students  among  the  guests  at  the  Mount  Airy 
House,  and  after  a  little  urging  they  had  con- 
sented to  assume  the  management  of  affairs, 
one  as  judge  and  the  other  as  referee.  They 
knew  all  about  the  rules  of  boating,  and  Joe 
Wayring  told  himself,  that  Prime  and  his 
friends  would  have  to  be  smarter  than  he 
thought  they  were  if  they  could  play  any  tricks 
under  the  watchful  eyes  of  those  two  college 
men  without  being  caught  in  the  act. 

At  an  early  hour  Mr.  Wayring' s  spacious 
boat-house,  which  was  to  be  used  as  head-quar- 
ters and  had  been  handsomely  decorated  for  the 
occasion,  was  thrown  open,  and  shortly  after- 
ward the  members  of  the  club  began  to  arrive. 
They  drew  their  canoes  upon  the  beach  at  the 
side  of  the  boat-house  and  disappeared  in  the 
dressing-room,  where  they  remained  until  the 
warning  blast  of  a  bugle  notified  them  that  it 
was  time  to  begin  operations.  Now  and  then 


214  JOE  WAYRETO  AT  HOME. 

one  of  them  would  take  a  cautious  peep  out  at 
the  back  door  and  turn  around  to  inform  his 
companions  that  all  New  London  had  come  up 
to  attend  the  meet ;  and  although  they  knew 
that  there  were  a  good  many  people  assembled 
to  witness  the  sports,  they  were  all  surprised, 
and  not  a  few  of  them  were  made  nervous  by 
the  scene  that  was  presented  to  their  gaze  when 
they  sprang  off  the  wharf,  and  ran  to  push 
their  canoes  into  the  water.  Mr.  AVayring's 
grounds  were  crowded  with  gayly  dressed  spec- 
tators, who  where  lounging  on  the  grass  or  sit- 
ting comfortably  under  the  tents  that  had  been 
provided  for  them,  and  the  lake  was  covered 
with  sail  and  row  boats,  all  of  which  were  fly- 
ing as  many  flags  as  they  could  find  places 
for. 

A  mile  up  the  lake  the  stake-boat  was  an- 
chored. In  it  was  one  of  the  judges,  who  reclined 
at  his  ease  on  a  couch  of  cushions  with  an  awn- 
ing over  him  to  keep  off  the  sun.  The  other 
judge  was  Mr.  Hastings,  who  stood  on  the 
wharf  to  act  as  starter.  The  referee's  barge, 
propelled  by  six  of  the  best  oarsmen  that  could 
be  found  among  the  guides,  lay  off  the  wharf, 


THE   CANOE   MEET.  215 

and  the  police-boats  had  already  cleared  the 
course. 

"  All  you  young  gentlemen  who  are  to  com- 
pete in  this  race  draw  a  number  as  you  pass, 
and  station  yourselves  accordingly,"  said  Mr. 
Hastings,  who  held  a  small  tin  box  above  his 
head  so  that  the  contestants  could  not  look  into 
it  and  pick  a  number  instead  of  taking  it  at 
random.  "  Go  down  as  far  as  the  leaning  tree 
so  as  to  get  a  good  start,  and  fill  away  at  the 
sound  of  the  bugle,  No.  1  taking  the  out- 
side." 

The  first  event  was  a  sailing  race — two  miles 
with  a  turn.  Those  who  had  entered  for  it 
drew  a  number  from  the  box,  lingered  a  mo- 
ment to  look  at  the  swinging  silver  pitcher  and 
gold-lined  goblets,  which,  with  a  tray  to  hold 
them,  were  to  go  to  the  boy  who  sent  his  canoe 
first  across  the  line  on  the  home  stretch,  and 
then  ran  out  to  launch  their  canoes  and  hoist 
their  sails.  There  were  ten  starters,  and  they 
made  a  pretty  picture  as  they  came  up  the 
lake  before  the  fresh  breeze  that  was  then  blow- 
ing, and  dashed  across  the  imaginary  line  that 
marked  the  beginning  of  the  course.  Another 


JOE   WAYKING   AT   HOME. 

blast  from  the  bugle  warned  them  that  it  was 
a  "go, "and  the  race  was  begun. 

The  sound  of  the  bugle  seemed  to 
excite  every  body — the  people  on  shore 
as  well  as  the  boys  in  the  boats,  who 
crowded  their  cranky  little  crafts  until  it 
looked  as  if  some  of  them  must  certainly 
go  over.  There  were  several  of  Prime's 
friends  among  the  contestants,  and  Joe  and 
his  two  chums  wondered  if  any  one  of  them 
had  been  "  booked  "  to  come  out  ahead  in  this 
particular  race.  They  saw  nothing  to  indicate 
it.  There  was  no  attempt  to  foul  the  boy  who 
seemed  likely  to  win,  and  indeed  there  was  no 
chance  for  any  such  proceeding.  The  referee's 
barge  easily  kept  abreast  of  the  racers,  and  the 
man  in  the  stake-boat  kept  his  glass  directed 
toward  them  from  the  start.  There  was  some 
crowding  and  confusion  at  the  turn,  and  some 
of  the  little  vessels  came  dangerously  near  to 
one  another  ;  but  their  crews  made  desperate 
efforts  to  clear  themselves,  some  because  they 
knew  they  were  closely  watched,  and  others 
because  they  were  determined  to  win  fairly  or 
not  at  all,  and  the  race  was  not  interrupted. 


THE   CANOE  MEET.  217 

It  was  a  close  and  exciting  struggle,  and  the 
boy  who  brought  his  Rice  Laker  first  across  the 
line  was  fairly  entitled  to  the  silver  pitcher. 

"That  was  a  splendid  race,"  exclaimed  Joe 
Wayring,  as  the  contestants,  after  beaching 
their  canoes,  came  into  the  boat-house  to  listen 
to  the  congratulations,  or  to  receive  the  sym- 
pathy of  their  friends.  "The  paddle  race 
comes  off  now,  and  I  hope  that  those  of  us  who 
take  part  in  it  will  make  as  good  a  showing  as 
you  did." 

While  Joe  was  talking  in  this  way,  Ned 
Stewart,  one  of  the  boys  who  had  just  been 
defeated,  drew  a  few  of  his  friends  around  him 
in  a  remote  corner  of  the  boat-house  by 
intimating  to  them  in  a  mysterious  way  that 
he  had  something  of  importance  to  say  to 
them. 

"Look  here,  Bigden,"  said  Ned,  in  an 
excited  whisper.  "I  believe  it  is  understood 
that  some  of  us  are  to  foul  Wayring  or  any 
fellow  in  his  crowd  who  stands  a  chance  of 
winning,  and  give  Noble  a  chance  to  carry  off 
the  honors  of  the  paddle  race  1 " 

"I  believe  you  did  make  some  such  arrange- 


218  JOE   WAYRING   AT  HOME. 

ment  as  that,"  replied  Tom,  indifferently. 
"But  if  my  memory  serves  me,  you  did  not 
consult  me  in  regard  to  it." 

These  words  produced  the  utmost  consterna- 
tion among  the  boys  in  the  corner. 

"Are  you  going  back  from  your  word?" 
cried  Noble,  as  soon  as  he  could  speak. 

' '  What  do  you  mean  by  that  ? ' '  demanded 
Tom. 

"You  know  very  well  what  he  means," 
exclaimed  Bob  Lord,  who,  it  will  be  remem- 
bered, had  been  "booked"  to  win  the  upset 
race.  "Now,  look  here,  Bigden  :  You  have 
been  running  with  Wayring  a  good  deal,  of  late, 
and  we  might  have  expected  this  of  you.  You 
want  Wayring  to  win  because  you  think  he  can 
do  more  to  get  you  into  the  archery  club  than 
we  can  ;  but  I  assure  you  that  you  are  mis- 
taken there.  You  can't  get  in  without  our 
votes,  and  if  you  go  back  on  us  we  shan't  give 
them  to  you." 

"I  don't  want  Wayring  to  win,"  said  Tom, 
emphatically.  "  My  Cousin  Loren  is  going  to 
come  out  at  the  top  of  the  heap  in  this  race." 

"Well,   I'll   bet    you  a  dollar    he   isn't," 


THE   CANOE   MEET.  219 

exclaimed  Noble,  whose  flashing  eyes  showed 
how  angry  he  was.  "  If  I  don't  win  this  race 
nobody  shall." 

"Well,  I'll  bet  you  two  dollars  that  I  shall 
keep  pretty  close  to  Loren,  and  that  the  boy 
who  interferes  with  him  purposely  will  go  out 
of  his  canoe  in  less  time  than  he  can  say 
'  General  Jackson '  with  his  mouth  open. 
Not  only  that,  but  I'll  thrash  him  the  very  first 
time  I  can  catch  him  ashore,"  replied  Tom, 
returning  Noble's  angry  scowl  with  interest, 
and  doubling  up  his  fists  as  if  he  were  ready 
and  willing  to  put  his  threat  into  execution 
then  and  there. 

"  Look  here  !  Look  here,  boys,"  whispered 
Prime,  who  was  really  afraid  the  two  would 
come  to  blows.  "  Such  work  as  this  will  never 
do.  If  we  quarrel  among  ourselves,  Wayring 
and  his  crowd  will  walk  off  with  all  the  prizes 
as  they  have  always  done." 

"I  have  no  intention  of  quarreling,"  said 
Noble,  who  did  not  like  the  way  Tom  glared 
at  him.  "I  only  want  Bigden  to  keep  his 
promise." 

"  What  promise  ? "  demanded  Tom. 


220  JOE   WAYRING   AT    HOME. 

"  Why,  didn't  you  say  that  you  were  down 
on  Wayring  and  Hastings,  and  that  you  did 
not  want  to  see  them  win  any  of  the  races  ? " 
inquired  Scott. 

"I  did." 

"And  didn't  you  promise  that  you  would 
help  us  win  ? ' '  chimed  in  Frank  Noble. 

"No,  I  didn't.  When  you  told  me  what 
your  programme  was,  I  simply  said :  '  All 
right.'  By  that  I  meant  that  you  could  do  as 
you  pleased,  and  my  cousins  and  I  would  do 
as  we  pleased.  You  were  very  good  to  your- 
selves when  you  picked  out  all  the  best  races 
for  your  own  men,  and  left  us  out  in  the  cold, 
were  you  not  ?  We  do  not  consider  that  we 
are  under  obligations  to  abide  by  any  such 
arrangement,  and  we  shan't  do  it.  We've  got 
a  programme  of  our  own  that  we  mean  to  carry 
out  if  we  can,  and  the  fellow  who  interferes 
with  us  in  any  way  may  make  up  his  mind  to 
take  the  consequences." 

So  saying  Tom  walked  off  followed  by  his 
cousins,  leaving  Prime  and  his  companions  lost 
in  wonder. 

"  Serves  us  just  right  for  having  any  thing 


THE   CANOE  MEET.  221 

to  do  with  snch  upstarts,"  said  Noble,  who  was 
the  first  to  speak.  "  They  have  gone  back  on 
us  fair  and  square  ;  that's  easy  enough  to  be 
seen." 

"Who  ever  heard  of  such  impudence?" 
exclaimed  Prime.  "  They  came  to  Mount  Airy 
with  the  idea  that  they  could  ran  the  town  to 
suit  themselves,  and  because  they  can't  do  it, 
they  are  mad  about  it.  They  must  not  be 
allowed  to  win  a  race.  I  would  much  rather 
see  Wayring  or  Hastings  come  in  first." 

"  That  brings  me  to  what  I  wanted  to  say  to 
you,"  said  Ned  Stewart.  "  I  don't  know 
whether  or  not  that  college  man  in  the  stake- 
boat  suspects  any  thing,  but  he  certainly 
acted  like  it.  He  kept  his  eyes  on  us  from  the 
time  we  crossed  the  line  until  we  got  home. 
If  you  try  to  foul  any  body  you  must  be  very 
sly  about  it,  or  else  you  will  be  caught  and 
ruled  out." 

If  Stewart  had  any  thing  else  to  say  he  did 
not  have  time  to  say  it,  for  just  then  the  bugle 
sounded  another  warning,  and  that  put  a  stop 
to  the  conversation.  It  was  a  call  to  the  boys 
who  were  to  take  part  in  the  paddle  race.  A 


222  JOE   WAYKING   AT   HOME. 

few  seconds  later  thirteen  active  young  fellows 
in  showy  uniforms  sprang  off  the  wharf  one  after 
the  other,  shoved  their  canoes  into  the  water, 
and  paddled  away  to  take  the  positions  assigned 
them  by  the  numbers  they  had  drawn  from  the 
tin  box.  As  luck  would  have  it,  Tom  Bigden 
found  himself  near  the  center  of  the  line,  with 
his  Cousin  Loren  on  one  side  of  him  and  Frank 
Noble  on  the  other.  Joe  Wayring  was  on  the 
right,  nearest  the  shore,  and  Arthur  Hastings 
on  the  extreme  left,  near  the  middle  of  the 
lake. 

"  It's  a  bad  outlook  for  us,"  whispered  Loren, 
after  he  had  run  his  eye  up  and  down  the 
line.  "  Joe  and  Arthur  are  so  far  away  that 
you  can't  touch  them." 

"Never  mind,"  replied  Tom,  in  the  same 
cautious  whisper.  "They  will  have  to  come 
closer  together  when  we  get  to  the  stake-boat, 
and  then,  perhaps,  we  can  do  something.  Keep 
your  weather  eye  peeled  for  Noble.  He'll 
spoil  your  chances  if  he  can.  He's  bound  to 
win  or  kick  up  a  row." 

"  Are  you  all  ready?  "  shouted  Mr.  Hast- 
ings, from  his  place  on  the  wharf. 


THE   CANOE   MEET.  223 

There  was  no  response  in  words,  but  each 
boy  grasped  his  double  paddle  with  a  firmer 
hold,  dipped  one  blade  of  it  into  the  water 
and  leaned  forward  so  that  he  could  put  all 
his  strength  into  the  first  stroke,  which  was 
given  before  the  notes  of  the  bugle  had  fairly 
died  away. 

The  thirteen  contestants  got  off  well  together, 
and  for  a  while  it  was  any  body's  race  ;  but 
by  the  time  a  quarter  of  a  mile  had  been 
passed  over,  Arthur  Hastings  and  Roy  Sheldon, 
who  "  made  the  pace",  began  to  draw  to  the 
front,  while  others  fell  behind,  and  when  they 
rounded  the  stake-boat  the  line  was  very  much 
broken.  Tom  Bigden  did  not  try  to  win. 
According  to  the  agreement  this  was  not  his 
race.  He  simply  kept  close  beside  his  cousin — 
he  had  harder  work  to  do  it  than  he  expected 
to  have,  for  Loren  sent  his  canoe  through  the 
water  at  an  astonishing  rate  of  speed — holding 
himself  in  readiness  to  frustrate  any  attempt 
at  trickery  on  Frank  Noble's  part,  or  to  foul 
Frank  if  he  showed  speed  enough  to  beat  Loren 
fairly. 

How  the  struggle  would  have  ended,  had  each 


224  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

boy  been  as  determined  to  win  or  lose  on  his 
merits  as  the  majority  of  them  were,  it  is  hard 
to  tell.  Arthur  and  Roy  paddled  much  faster 
now  than  they  did  on  the  day  they  had  those 
friendly  trials  with  Tom  and  his  cousin,  and 
so  did  Loren.  Frank  Noble,  who  was  by  no 
means  an  antagonist  to  be  despised,  kept 
close  company  with  them,  while  Joe  Wayring 
seemed  content  to  linger  behind  and  save  his 
wind  so  that  he  could  force  the  pace  on  the 
way  home  ;  consequently  he  was  an  eye-witness 
to  a  piece  of  deliberate  rascality  on  the  part  of 
Tom  Bigden,  which  was  so  neatly  executed 
that  it  might  have  passed  for  an  accident,  if 
Joe,  when  questioned  by  the  judge,  had  not  told 
the  truth  concerning  it.  It  came  about  in  this 
way: 

Arthur  and  Roy  rounded  the  stake-boat 
together,  keeping  far  enough  away  from  each 
other  to  avoid  all  danger  of  a  collision.  Frank 
Noble  followed  in  their  wake,  and  close  behind 
him  came  Loren  Farnsworth,  who  having  got 
his  "  second  wind  ",  was  plying  his  paddle  with 
so  much  strength  and  skill  that  he  was  rapidly 
closing  up  the  gap  between  himself  and  his 


THE   CANOE  MEET.  225 

leaders.  Noble  saw  defeat  staring  him  in  the 
face,  and  believing  that  he  could  gain  a  few 
feet  on  Hastings  and  his  companion,  and  throw 
Loren  out  of  the  race  at  the  same  time,  he 
resorted  to  an  expedient  which  drew  a  warn- 
ing shout  from  Joe  Wayring,  who  was  con- 
tentedly  following  in  Tom's  rear. 

"Look  out  there,  Frank!"  cried  Joe. 
"You'll  be  foul  of  somebody  in  a  minute 
more." 

' '  I  told  Tom  that  Loren  Farnsworth  should 
never  come  out  at  the  top  of  the  heap  in  this 
race,  and  I  meant  every  word  of  it,"  said 
Frank,  to  himself ;  and  paying  no  attention  to 
Joe's  warning,  he  shot  his  canoe  across  Loren' s 
bow,  passing  so  close  to  him  that  the  latter  was 
obliged  to  stop  paddling  and  back  water  in 
order  to  escape  the  collision  which  for  a  second 
or  two  seemed  inevitable. 

This  was  Tom  Bigden's  opportunity  and  he 
was  prompt  to  improve  it.  With  a  movement 
so  quick  and  dextrous  that  it  looked  like  an 
accident  to  the  people  on  shore  who  witnessed 
it,  Tom  unjointed  his  paddle,  dropped  one  blade 
of  it  overboard,  and  laying  out  all  his  strength 


226  JOE  WAYKING  AT  HOME. 

on  the  other,  he  swung  the  bow  of  his  canoe 
around  and  sent  it  crashing  into  the  side  of 
Noble's  boat,  overturning  it  in  an  instant  and 
throwing  its  occupant  out  into  the  water. 
Then,  quick  as  a  flash,  Tom  backed  his  canoe 
out  of  Loren's  way  and  sent  it  directly  in  the 
path  of  the  other  boys,  who  were  thus  given 
their  choice  between  two  courses  of  action  : 
One  was  to  make  a  wide  detour  in  order  to 
clear  the  three  boats  that  lay  in  their  way,  and 
the  other  was  to  give  up  the  race,  which  was 
now  virtually  left  to  Hastings,  Sheldon  and 
Loren  Farnsworth.  The  most  of  them  preferred 
to  draw  out  of  a  contest  in  which  they  had  no 
show  of  winning,  and  with  many  exclamations 
of  anger  and  disgust  turned  about  and  paddled 
back  to  the  starting  point ;  \vhile  the  others 
crowded  up  around  the  stake-boat  to  hear 
what  the  judge  and  referee  would  have  to  say 
about  it. 

"  I  claim  foul  on  that !  "  shouted  Tom  ;  and 
the  words  and  the  speaker's  easy  assurance  so 
astonished  Joe  Wayring,  that  he  sat  in  his 
canoe  with  his  paddle  suspended  in  the  air  as 
if  he  did  not  know  what  to  do  with  it. 


THE   CANOE   MEET.  227 

"I  claim  foul !  "  sputtered  Noble,  as  soon  as 
his  head  appeared  above  the  surface  of  the 
water.  "Bigden  capsized  me  on  purpose." 

"  I  say  I  didn't !"  cried  Tom,  looking  very 
surprised  and  innocent  indeed.  "  What  busi- 
ness had  you  to  try  to  cross  my  bows,  when 
any  body  with  half  an  eye  could  see  that  you 
had  no  chance  to  do  it  ?  You  declared  that  if 
you  didn't  win  this  race  no  one  else  should, 
and  that's  why  you  got  in  my  way." 

"  And  you  said  that  your  Cousin  Loren  was 
booked  to  win,  if  you  could  make  him  do  it," 
retorted  Noble,  who  had  climbed  into  his  canoe 
and  was  rapidly  throwing  out  the  water  it  had 
shipped  in  righting.  "That's  why  you  cap- 
sized me.  It  is  a  lucky  thing  for  you  that  you 
didn't  smash  in  the  side  of  -my  boat  as  you 
tried  to  do.  I  would  have  made  you  pay 
roundly  for  it,  if  there  is  law  enough  in  Mount 
Airy  to—" 

"  That  will  do,"  said  the  judge,  in  a  tone  of 
authority.  "This  is  not  the  place  to  settle 
quarrels,  and  neither  am  I  the  one  to  do 
it." 

"My  paddle  got  unjointed,  and  I  couldn't 


228  JOE   WAYKING    AT   HOME. 

shift  from  one  side  to  the  other  quick  enough 
to  keep  clear  of  you,"  said  Tom. 

Mean whi] e  Hastings,  Sheldon  and  Loren 
Farnsworth  were  making  fast  time  down  the 
home  stretch  toward  the  starting  point.  To 
the  surprise  of  every  body,  and  to  the  no  small 
annoyance  of  Arthur  Hastings,  who  had  never 
before  been  so  closely  followed  by  any  one  except 
Sheldon  and  Wayring,  Loren  was  not  only 
holding  his  own,  but  he  was  gaining  at  every 
stroke.  There  is  no  telling  which  one  of  the 
three  would  have  come  out  ahead  at  the  finish, 
had  they  been  permitted  to  continue  the  strug- 
gle ;  but  the  referee,  seeing  the  commotion 
among  the  rest  of  the  fleet,  called  out :  ' '  No 
race  !  "  and  pulled  up  to  the  stake-boat  to  see 
what  was  the  matter.  The  judge  gave  him  his 
version  of  the  affair,  Noble  and  Tom  Bigden 
gave  theirs,  and  each  of  the  two  boys  would 
have  expressed  his  opinion  of  the  other  in  no 
very  complimentary  terms,  had  not  the  referee 
interrupted  them  by  saying — 

"Hard  words  can't  settle  disputes  of  this 
kind.  The  race  will  have  to  be  tried  over  again, 
and  Noble,  I  don't  think  you  will  be  allowed 


THE  CANOE  MEET.  229 

to  take  any  part  in  it.  You  made  a  mistake  in 
trying  to  cross  Bigden's  bows  when  you  did, 
because  you  had  no  room  to  do  it  without  inter- 
fering with  him.  You  threw  him  out  of  the 
contest,  and  came  very  near  throwing  Farns- 
worth  out,  too ;  consequently  it  will  be  my 
duty  to  bar  you.  I  am  sorry — " 

"  You  needn't  be,  for  I  am  sure  I  don't  care," 
replied  Noble,  rudely.  He  tried  hard  to  con- 
trol himself  so  that  the  boys  around  him  should 
not  see  how  very  angry  he  was,  but  his  efforts 
met  with  little  success.  To  be  ruled  out  of  one 
contest  was  to  be  ruled  out  of  all ;  and  that  was 
a  severe  blow  to  a  boy  who  had  confidently 
expected  to  carry  off  some  of  the  best  prizes. 
"  What  are  you  going  to  do  with  Bigden  ?  "  he 
asked,  or  rather  demanded  of  the  referee. 

"  That  depends,"  answered  the  latter,  some- 
what sharply. 

"He  can't  do  any  thing  with  me  because  I 
have  violated  no  rule,"  said  Tom,  defiantly. 
"You  ran  across  my  path  when  you  had  no 
business  to  do  it,  and  an  accident  to  my  paddle 
made  me  run  into  you.  That's  all  there  is 
of  it." 


230  JT>E   WAYRING  AT   HOME. 

But  the  referee  and  judge  seemed  to  hold  a 
different  opinion.  They  conversed  for  a  few 
minutes  in  tones  so  low  that  no  one  but  the 
guides  could  hear  what  they  said,  and  presently 
the  judge  appealed  to  Joe  Way-ring. 

"You  were  close  behind  Bigden  when  this 
happened,"  said  he.  "Do  you  think  it  was  an 
accident  ?" 

"  What  does  he  know  about  it  ?"  cried  Tom, 
fiercely.  "  I  don't  care  what  he  or  any  body 
else  says  ;  I  know— 

"One  moment,  please,"  interrupted  the  ref- 
eree. "You  have  had  your  say,  and  you  don't 
help  your  side  of  the  case  any  by  showing  so 
much  excitement  over  it." 

"Do  you  think  Bigden  unjointed  his  paddle 
purposely?"  continued  the  judge,  addressing 
himself  to  Joe. 

"Yes,  sir,"  answered  the  latter,  promptly. 

"  Do  you  think  he  could  have  kept  clear  of 
Noble  if  he  had  made  use  of  ordinary  skill  and 
caution  ? ' ' 

"  I  am  sure  of  it." 

"  How  could  he  have  done  it  ? " 

"By  working  his  paddle  on  the  port  side  of 


THE   CANOE   MEET.  231 

his  canoe.  That  would  have  thrown  him  around 
the  stake-boat  very  neatly  and  given  him  a  win- 
ning place  in  the  race ;  but  instead  of  that  he 
used  his  paddle  on  the  starboard  side,  and  of 
course  that  threw  the  bow  of  his  canoe  plump 
into  Noble's  side." 

Frank  and  the  judge  nodded  as  if  to  say  that 
that  was  about  the  way  the  thing  stood,  and 
after  a  few  minutes'  reflection  the  referee  said — 

"I  am  perfectly  satisfied  and  will  announce 
my  decision  where  all  the  members  of  the  club 
can  hear  it.  As  we  are  wasting  time  and  delay- 
ing the  other  sports  by  staying  here,  we  will 
go  back  to  head-quarters." 

It  was  not  a  very  sociable  company  of  boys 
who  turned  about  at  this  command  and  pad- 
dled slowly  back  to  the  starting  point,  and 
neither  were  Noble  and  Tom  Bigden  the  only 
ones  among  them  who  were  mad  enough  to 
fight.  Two  of  their  number  were  so  jealous  of 
each  other  and  so  anxious  to  win  prizes,  that 
they  had  deliberately  disgraced  the  club  in  the 
presence  of  hundreds  of  strangers ;  and  it  is 
hard  to  see  how  any  lover  of  fair  play  could 
help  being  annoyed  over  it.  Joe  Wayring  felt 


232  JOE   WAYBING   AT   HOME. 

it  very  keenly;  and  consequently  when  Tom 
Bigden  paddled  up  alongside  and  told  him  that 
he  intended  to  get  even  with  him  some  way  for 
the  stand  he  had  taken,  Joe  was  in  just  the 
right  humor  to  give  him  as  good  as  he  sent. 

"Joe  Wayring,  you  have  made  an  enemy  of 
me  by  this  day's  work,"  said  Tom,  in  a  threat- 
ening tone. 

"By  telling  the  truth  in  regard  to  your  foul- 
ing of  Frank  Noble?"  exclaimed  Joe.  "I 
don't  care  if  I  have.  I  saw  the  whole  proceed- 
ing, and  I  know  that  you  meant  to  do  it.  I 
warned  you  that  any  boy  who  could  so  far  for- 
get himself  as  to  deliberately  interfere  with 
another,  would  be  forever  ruled  out  of  the 
club's  races,  and  you  will  find  that  I  knew  what 
I  was  talking  about." 

"  You  might  as  well  expel  me  and  be  done 
with  it  ?  "  exclaimed  Tom,  angrily.  "  What's 
the  use  of  my  belonging  to  the  club  if  I  am  not 
allowed  to  take  part  in  its  contests  ?  Joe 
Wayring,  there's  no  honor  about  you.  You 
have  led  me  to  believe  that  you  were  my 
friend,  and  then  you  went  back  on  me  the 
very  first  chance  you  got." 


THE   CANOE  MEET.  233 

"  Do  you  mean  that  I  have  been  sailing 
under  false  colors?"  cried  Joe,  indignantly. 
"If  you  throw  out  any  more  insinuations  of 
that  sort  before  we  reach  the  boat-house  I'll 
dump  you  in  the  lake.  When  the  judge 
questioned  me  I  told  him  the  truth ;  and  I 
wouldn't  have  done  otherwise  to  please  any 
body." 

Something  must  have  warned  Tom  that 
Joe  would  be  as  good  as  his  word,  for  he  had 
nothing  more  to  say  to  him.  He  gradually 
fell  behind  and  allowed  him  to  paddle  down  to 
the  boat-house  in  peace. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

OFF    FOK  INDIAN   LAKE. 

WHEN  Joe  Way  ring  beached  his  canoe 
below  the  boat-house,  he  was  imme- 
diately surrounded  by  his  friends  who  were 
impatient  to  hear  all  about  it.  They  knewT 
there  had  been  a  foul,  for  some  of  the  laggards 
in  the  race  had  seen  it ;  but  they  could  not  tell 
how  it  had  been  brought  about,  or  who  was  to 
blame  for  it. 

"  It  was  Noble's  fault  in  the  first  place,  and 
Tom  Bigden's  in  the  second,"  said  Joe,  in 
response  to  their  hurried  inquiries.  "It  seems 
that  there  are  three  '  cliques '  in  the  club,  one 
of  which  believes  in  doing  things  fairly,  while 
the  other  two  do  not.  Loren  Farnsworth  was 
1  booked '  by  one  of  the  cliques  to  win  the  pad- 
dle race,  while  Frank  Noble  was  the  choice  of  the 
other.  Each  was  determined  that  his  opponent 
should  not  win,  and  the  result  was  most  disgrace- 


OFF   FOR  INDIAN   LAKE.  235 

ful — a  deliberate  collision  at  the  stake-boat  in 
the  presence  of  all  these  strangers.  What  sort 
of  a  story  will  they  carry  back  to  the  city  about 
the  Mount  Airy  canoe  club  \  Noble  began  the 
row  by  putting  himself  in  Loren's  way  and 
Tom  retaliated  by  capsizing  Frank's  canoe 
and  thro  wing  him  out  into  the  water." 

' '  Do  you  think  he  meant  to  do  it  ? "  inquired 
Hastings,  who  was  far  in  the  lead  at  the  time, 
and  could  not  of  course  see  what  was  going  on 
behind  him. 

"I  know  he  did,"  replied  Joe,  who  then 
went  on  to  give  a  circumstantial  account  of 
the  manner  in  which  the  fouling  was  done. 
The  boys  all  declared  that  it  was  a  very  neat 
trick,  and  one  of  them  added— 

"That  Tom  Bigden's  cheek  is  something 
wonderful.  As  soon  as  he  had  backed  out  of 
Loren's  way  and  laid  himself  across  the  course 
so  that  we  couldn't  get  by  him  without  losing 
more  ground  than  we  could  possibly  make  up, 
he  called  out  that  he  claimed  foul  on  that. 
Did  you  ever  hear  of  such  impudence  ? " 

"Please  give  me  your  attention  for  one 
moment,  gentlemen,"  shouted  the  president 


236  JOE   TVAYRING   AT   HOME. 

of  the  club  ;  and  Joe  and  his  friends  turned 
about  to  see  the  referee  perched  upon  a  dry- 
goods  box. 

"Young  gentlemen,"  said  he,  as  the  boys 
gathered  around  him,  ' '  the  contestants  in  the 
paddle  race  will  go  over  the  course  again  this 
afternoon,  one  hour  after  lunch.  They  will  be 
the  same  as  before,  with  the  exception  of  Frank 
Noble  and  Thomas  Bigden,  whom  I  am  com- 
pelled to  bar  out.  It  is  exceedingly  unpleas- 
ant to  me  to  be  obliged  to  render  this  decision, 
but  the  rules  under  which  your  sports  are 
conducted  leave  me  no  alternative." 

"What  do  you  think  of  that,  fellows?" 
said  Arthur  Hastings.  "If  Bigden  isn't  satis- 
fied now  that  he  can't  run  this  club  to  suit  his 
own  ideas,  I  shall  always  think  he  ought  to  be." 

"  Well,  Noble,"  said  Prime.  "  You're  done 
for  at  last.  You  are  ruled  out  of  every  thing. 
What  are  you  going  to  do  ? " 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  ? "  asked  Frank 
in  reply. 

"  I  ?    Nothing  at  all.     What  can  I  do  ?  " 

"You  can  go  home  with  me,  can't  you?" 

"Eh?  Well — yes;  I  suppose  I  could,  but  I 


OFF   FOE  INDIAN   LAKE.  237 

don't  want  to.  The  fun  is  only  just  begin- 
ning." 

' '  And  are  you  going  to  stay  here  and  enjoy 
yourself  and  assist  in  making  the  meet  a  suc- 
cess when  one  of  your  friends  is  barred  out?" 
exclaimed  Noble,  indignantly.  "  I  didn't  think 
that  of  you,  Prime.  Why  didn't  you  stay 
close  to  me  so  that  you  could  put  in  a  word  to 
help  me  ?  You  knew  what  I  was  going  to  do." 

' '  I  couldn'  t  stay  close  to  you.  Those  fellows 
in  the  lead  made  the  pace  so  hot  that  I  had  to 
fall  behind,  and  I  didn't  see  the  foul  when  it 
occurred." 

"  No  matter  for  that.  You  could  have  said 
something  in  my  defense  if  you  had  wanted  to  ; 
but  instead  of  standing  by  me,  you  left  me  to 
fight  Joe  Wayring  and  the  judge  alone.  Look 
there  !  Bigden's  cousins  are  not  going  back  on 
him  as  you  are  going  back  on  me.  Tom  is  pre- 
paring to  go  home,  andthey  are  going  with  him. ' ' 

Bat  Noble  did  not  know  what  a  stormy  time 
Tom  had  with  Loren  and  Ralph  before  he  could 
induce  them  to  forego  all  the  sports  and  pleas- 
ures of  the  meet.  Loren  was  particularly  obsti- 
nate. He  was  satisfied  now  that  he  was  a  pretty 


238  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

good  hand  with  a  double  paddle,  and  confident 
that  if  any  of  the  three  recognized  champions 
beat  him  when  the  afternoon  race  came  off ,  they 
would  have  to  make  their  canoes  get  through 
the  water  faster  than  they  ever  did  before. 
Then  there  was  the  upset  race,  which  Ralph 
was  almost  sure  he  could  win,  and  the  greasy 
pole  walk,  with  Miss  Arden's  silk  flag  to  go  to 
the  best  man — must  they  give  up  all  these 
things  just  because  Tom  had  been  ruled  out  ? 

"What's  the  reason  I  am  ruled  out?" 
exclaimed  Tom,  who  was  as  mad  as  a  boy  ever 
gets  to  be.  "  Isn't  it  because  I  tried  my  best 
to  help  Loren  win  the  paddle  race  ?  I  tell  you 
that  you  don't  stand  the  least  show  of  winning 
any  thing  ;  but  stay  if  you  want  to." 

Ralph  and  Loren  were  well  enough  acquainted 
with  Tom  to  know  that  there  was  a  volume  of 
meaning  in  his  last  words.  If  they  braved  his 
anger  they  woiild  be  sure  to  suffer  for  it  in  the 
end,  and  if  Tom  turned  against  them,  where 
could  they  look  for  friends  and  associates? 
Prime  and  his  followers  would  not  have  any 
thing  more  to  do  with  them  ;  Joe  Wayring, 
unless  he  was  as  blind  as  a  bat,  had  seen  quite 


OFF   FOR   INDIAN   LAKE.  239 

enough  to  make  him  suspicious  of  them  >  and 
when  they  came  to  look  at  it,  they  found  that 
they  were  in  a  very  unenviable  situation. 

"  Fd  give  almost  any  thing  if  I  could  live  the 
last  half  hour  over  again,"  declared  Loren,  after 
he  had  taken  a  few  minutes  in  which  to  con- 
sider the  matter.  "We've  made  Noble  and 
his  crowd  so  mad  that  they'll  never  look  at  us 
again,  Tom  is  just  as  good  as  expelled  from  the 
club,  and  we  may  as  well  give  up  all  hope  of 
being  admitted  to  the  Toxophilites.  We're  at 
outs  with  every  body,  and  the  only  thing  we  can 
do  is  to  stand  by  one  another." 

Ralph  thought  so,  too.  Without  wasting  any 
more  time  in  argument  they  put  on  their  long 
coats  to  cover  up  the  uniforms  they  would 
probably  never  wear  again,  shoved  off  their 
canoes,  and  set  out  for  home ;  and  no  one 
except  Frank  Noble  saw  them  go.  The  other 
members  of  the  club  were  too  much  interested 
in  their  own  affairs  to  pay  any  attention  to  the 
movements  of  a  boy  who  had  gone  deliberately 
to  work  to  mar  their  day's  enjoyment. 

"  Tom's  got  two  fellows  to  stand  by  him,  but 
I  am  left  alone,"  thought  Noble,  with  no  little 


240  JOE   WAYRING   AT  HOME. 

bitterness  in  his  heart.  ' '  Prime  and  the  rest 
of  them  pretend  to  hate  Wayring  and  his 
crowd,  and  yet  they  are  willing  to  stay  and 
help  on  the  sports  after  I  have  been  kicked  out 
of  the  lists.  For  two  cents  I'd  hunt  up  Way- 
ring  and  tell  him  to  look  out  for  Scott  and 
Lord." 

But  he  didn't  do  it.  He  knew  that  such  a 
proceeding  would  turn  every  body  against  him, 
and  he  had  made  enemies  enough  already. 
Without  attracting  attention  he  got  into  his 
canoe  and  paddled  down  to  his  boat-house. 

The  unfortunate  ending  of  the  paddle  race 
had  a  most  depressing  effect  upon  the  members 
of  the  canoe  club,  some  of  whom  declared  that 
their  organization  was  on  the  eve  of  falling  to 
pieces.  After  that  every  thing  "dragged". 
The  whole  programme  was  duly  carried  out, 
but  the  contestants  did  not  enter  into  the 
sports  with  their  usual  spirit  and  energy.  Scott 
and  Lord,  who  were  "booked"  for  the  sailing 
and  upset  races,  respectively,  won  nothing  at  all. 
They  could  not  win  fairly,  and  the  promptness 
witli  which  Tom  and  Frank  had  been  ruled  out 
deterred  them  from  attempting  any  tricks. 


OFF  FOE  INDIAN   LAKE.  241 

Arthur  Hastings  won  the  paddle  race  after  a 
hard  struggle  ;  Joe  Wayring,  being  the  first  to 
walk  the  greasy  pole,  carried  off  Miss  Arden's 
silk  flag  ;  and  Roy  for  once  went  home  as  empty 
handed  as  he  came,  the  sailing  and  upset  races 
being  won  by  other  boys.  But  Roy  wasn't 
mad  about  it,  as  some  of  the  unsuccessful  ones 
were.  He  had  come  there  for  a  "  good  time", 
and  he  had  it  ;  and  his  failure  to  win  a  prize 
did  not  spoil  his  day's  sport. 

After  the  spectators  had  gone  back  to  their 
hotels  and  all  the  members  of  the  club  had  set 
out  for  home,  the  three  chums  sat  down  in  the 
boat-house  to  compare  notes. 

"  I  am  glad  it's  over,"  said  Roy,  giving 
expression  to  the  thoughts  that  were  passing 
through  the  minds  of  his  companions.  "  It 
was  the  meanest  meet  I  ever  heard  of.  I 
wouldn't  have  had  that  affair  at  the  stake-boat 
happen  for  any  thing.  Those  visitors  from 
New  London  will  say  that  we  are  as  bad  as  the 
professional  oarsmen  who  saw  their  boats,  and 
capsize  themselves  on  purpose." 

"  Well,  you  expected  something  of  the  kind, 
didn'  t  you  ? "  said  Joe.  ' '  I  did.  When  Big- 


242  JOE   WAYRING   AT  HOME. 

den  told  me  that  there  were  certain  boys  in  the 
club  who  had  been  '  booked '  to  win  certain 
races,  I  was  sure  that  Prime  had  a  linger  in  the 
pie,  and  that  the  reason  Tom  told  me  about  it 
was  because  he  had  got  mad  at  him  or  some 
member  of  his  party.  The  events  of  the  day 
have  proved  that  I  was  right.  In  making  up 
the  slate,  Prime  and  his  friends  either  forgot 
or  refused  to  give  any  of  the  races  to  Tom 
and  his  cousins,  and  that  was  what  caused  the 
trouble." 

"Well,  it's  some  satisfaction  to  know  that 
they  will  never  have  a  chance  to  cause  us  any 
more  trouble, ' '  said  Arthur.  ' '  They  will  with- 
draw from  the  club,  of  course." 

"I  think  there's  no  doubt  about  that,"  said 
Joe.  "  I  know  that  that  is  what  I  should  do 
if  I  were  in  their  place.  As  Tom  Bigden  said : 
1  What's  the  use  of  belonging  to  a  club  if  you 
are  not  allowed  to  take  part  in  the  contests  ? ' 
I  am  of  the  opinion  that  they  will  band 
together  and  get  up  a  club  of  their  own.  Now 
let's  talk  about  something  else.  To-morrow 
we  start  for  Indian  Lake." 

This  was  a  much  more  agreeable  topic  of 


OFF   FOR  INDIAN   LAKE.  243 

conversation  than  the  canoe  meet,  and  they 
talked  about  it  until  the  lengthening  shadows 
admonisfted  Arthur  and  Roy  that  it  was  time 
for  them  to  set  out  for  their  homes. 

Indian  Lake  was  a  favorite  place  of  resort 
for  the  Mount  Airy  sportsmen,  and  for  these 
three  boys  in  particular.  They  went  there  reg- 
ularly every  summer.  The  country  about  the 
village  was  not  wild  enough  to  suit  them,  and 
besides  the  trout  streams  were  so  constantly 
fished  by  the  New  London  anglers,  that  they 
were  beginning  to  show  signs  of  giving  out. 
Joe  and  his  friends  were  so  well  acquainted 
with  the  lake  that  they  never  thought  of  taking 
a  guide  when  they  went  there  for  recreation. 
They  went  everywhere  that  a  guide  could  take 
them,  and  with  no  fear  of  being  lost.  They 
were  joint  partners  in  a  skiff,  which  they  had 
fitted  up  with  special  reference  to  these  annual 
trips — a  strong,  easy  running  craft,  so  light 
that  it  could  be  carried  over  the  portages  with- 
out any  great  outlay  of  strength,  and  so  roomy 
that  the  boys  could  sleep  in  it  without  being 
crowded.  It  was  provided  with  lockers  fore 
and  aft,  in  which  the  owners  carried  their  extra 


244  JOE  WAYRING  AT  HOME. 

clothing,  provisions  and  camp  equipage,  an 
awning  to  keep  off  the  sun  and  a  water-proof 
tent  which  would  keep  them  dry,  rfo  matter 
how  hard  the  rain  came  down.  With  this  boat 
a  journey  of  a  hundred  miles — that  was  the  dis- 
tance between  Mount  Airy  and  Indian  Lake, 
and  there  was  a  navigable  water-course  almost 
all  the  way — was  looked  upon  as  a  pleasure 
trip.  The  boys  would  have  been  astonished  if 
they  had  known  what  was  to  be  the  result  of 
this  particular  visit  to  the  lake. 

That  night  there  were  three  busy  young  fel- 
lows in  Mount  Airy,  who  were  packing  up  and 
getting  ready  for  an  early  start  on  the  follow- 
ing morning.  If  you  could  have  seen  their 
things  after  they  got  them  together,  you  might 
have  been  surprised  to  see  that  there  was  not 
a  single  fowling-piece  among  them.  What 
was  the  use  of  taking  guns  into  the  woods 
during  the  "  close  "  season — that  is,  while  the 
game  was  protected  by  law  ?  But  each  boy 
took  with  him  a  weapon  which,  in  hit  hands, 
was  almost  as  deadly  as  a  shot  gun  is  in  the 
hands  of  an  ordinary  marksman — a  long  bow 
with  its  accompanying  quiver  full  of  arrows. 


OFF   FOR  INDIAN   LAKE.  245 

The  law  permitted  them  to  shoot  loons — if  they 
could.  At  any  rate  it  was  sport  to  try,  and  to 
see  the  lightning-like  movements  of  the  bird 
as  it  went  under  water  at  the  twang  of  the  bow- 
string. 

"  There's  one  thing  about  your  outfit  that 
doesn't  look  just  right,"  said  Uncle  Joe,  point- 
ing to  the  heavy  bait-rod  which  his  nephew 
placed  in  the  corner  beside  his  long  bow. 
"The  idea  of  catching  trout  with  a  thing  like 
that,  and  worms  for  bait !  Before  you  go  into 
the  woods  again  I  will  see  that  you  have  a  nice 
light  fly-rod." 

"  But  I  can't  throw  a  fly,"  said  Joe. 

"  Well,  you  can  learn^  can't  you  ?  " 

Joe  said  he  thought  he  could,  and  there  the 
matter  rested  for  a  whole  year. 

The  next  morning  at  four  o'clock  Joe  Way- 
ring  was  sitting  on  the  wharf  in  front  of  the 
boat-house,  watching  Arthur  Hastings,  who  was 
coming  up  the  lake  in  the  skiff.  When  he 
arrived  Joe  passed  down  to  him  two  cases,  one 
containing  his  long  bow  and  quiver,  the  other 
his  bait-rod  and  dip-net,  a  bundle  of  blankets, 
a  soldier's  knapsack  with  a  change  of  clothing 


246  JOE   WAYBING  AT    HOME. 

in  it,  and  the  contents  of  a  big  market  basket. 
The  basket  itself  was  left  on  the  wharf,  because 
it  would  have  taken  up  too  much  valuable 
space  in  the  lockers.  Mars,  the  Newfound- 
lander, begged  to  go,  too,  and  growled  spitefully 
at  Arthur's  little  cocker  spaniel,  which  growled 
defiantly  back  at  him  from  his  safe  perch  on 
the  stern  locker.  Jim  (that  was  the  spaniel's 
name),  always  went  on  these  expeditions  as. 
body-guard  and  sentinel.  He  seemed  to  have  a 
deep  sense  of  the  responsibility  that  rested 
upon  him,  and  the  arrogant  and  overbearing 
manner  in  which  he  conducted  himself  toward 
strangers,  proved  that  he  considered  himself  to 
be  of  some  consequence  in  the  world.  He  was 
a  featherweight  and  took  up  but  little  room  ; 
while  the  Newfoundlander's  huge  bulk  would 
have  been  sadly  in  their  way.  They  might  as 
well  have  added  another  boy  to  the  party. 

Having  stowed  his  supplies  and  equipments 
away  in  the  lockers,  Joe  picked  up  an  oar  and 
assisted  Arthur  to  pull  the  skiff  up  to  Mr. 
Sheldon's  boat-house,  where  they  found  Roy 
waiting  for  them.  He  soon  transferred  himself 
and  his  belongings  from  the  wharf  to  the  cock- 


OFF   FOE   INDIAN   LAKE.  247 

pit,  and  then  the  skiff  went  at  a  rapid  rate 
across  the  lake  toward  the  river,  the  boys 
chanting  a  boat  song  as  they  steadily  plied  the 
oars.  They  paused  a  moment  at  the  head  of 
the  rapids,  and  as  they  gazed  at  them,  Arthur 
said— 

"  How  do  you  suppose  Matt  Coyle  ever  suc- 
ceeded in  getting  that  big  heavy  punt  of  his 
down  there?  I  wouldn't  make  the  passage  in 
her  for  all  the  money  there  is  in  Mount  Airy." 

"It's  a  wonder  to  me  that  he  didn't  smash 
her  all  to  pieces,"  said  Joe.  "  She's  in  Sher- 
win's  Pond  now,  I  suppose,  and  there  she  will 
have  to  stay,  for  there  is  no  way  to  get  her  out. 
I  wonder  what  Matt  has  done  with  my  canoe  ?' ' 

"Oh,  he  has  snagged  and  sunk  her  before 
this  time,"  replied  Roy,  consolingly.  "I 
wonder  what  he  has  done  with  the  rod  he  stole 
from  me?  " 

"  Some  black  bass  has  smashed  it  for  him 
most  likely,"  said  Arthur.  "At  any  rate  you 
will  never  handle  it  again." 

The  boys  had  from  the  first  given  up  all  hope  of 
ever  recovering  their  lost  property.  The  deputy 
sherilf  and  constable,  stimulated  to  extra  exer- 


248  JOE   WAYKING   AT   HOME. 

tion  by  the  offer  of  a  large  reward  by  the 
Mount  Airy  authorities,  had  scoured  the  woods 
in  every  direction  in  search  of  the  thief,  but 
their  efforts  had  met  with  no  success.  They 
found  the  site  of  Matt's  shanty,  as  we  have  said, 
but  the  shanty  itself  had  disappeared.  So  had 
Matt  and  his  family,  and  the  officers  could  not 
get  upon  their  trail.  Perhaps  if  we  go  back 
to  the  day  on  which  Matt  stole  Joe  Wayring's 
canoe  and  follow  his  fortunes  for  a  short  time, 
we  shall  see  what  the  reason  was. 

When  the  squatter  picked  up  Joe's  double 
paddle  and  shoved  away  from  the  shore,  after 
taking  possession  of  all  the  fishing  rods  and 
bundles  that  he  could  lay  his  hand  on,  he  told 
himself  that  he  had  done  something  toward 
paying  off  the  Mount  Airy  people  for  the 
shameful  manner  in  which  they  had  treated 
him  and  his  family. 

"  They  wouldn't  let  us  stay  up  there  to  the 
village  an'  earn  an  honest  livin',  like  we  wanted 
to  do,"  said  Matt,  with  a  chuckle,  "an'  now 
I'll  show  'em  how  much  they  made  by  it.  Them 
things  must  be  wuth  a  power  of  money,"  he 
went  on,  looking  down  at  the  elegant  rods 


OFF  FOB  INDIAN   LAKE.  249 

which  he  had  unjointed  and  laid  on  the  bottom 
of  the  canoe,  "an7  I  reckon  mebbe  we've  got 
grub  enough  to  last  us  fur  a  day  or  two — good 
grub,  too,  sich  as  don't  often  come  into  our 
house  less'n  we  hooks  it.  This  is  a  powerful 
nice  little  boat,  this  canoe  is,  an'  now  we'll  go 
up  to  Injun  Lake,  an'  me  an'  the  boys  will  set 
up  fur  independent  guides.  If  they  won't 
have  us  there,  we' 11  bust  up  the  business." 

While  communing  thus  with  himself  the 
squatter  did  not  neglect  to  ply  his  paddle  vigor- 
ously, nor  to  look  over  his  shoulder  now  and 
then  to  satisfy  himself  that  his  rascality  had 
not  yet  been  discovered.  But  Joe  and  his  com- 
panions spent  fully  half  an  hour  in  roaming 
about  through  the  woods,  looking  for  the  bear 
and  shooting  squirrels  for  their  dinner,  and 
when  they  came  out,  Matt  was  nowhere  in 
sight.  He  had  crossed  the  pond,  and  was  urg- 
ing the  canoe  up  a  narrow  winding  creek 
toward  his  habitation.  With  a  caution  which 
had  become  a  part  of  his  nature,  he  had  con- 
cealed his  place  of  abode  so  effectually  that  a 
fleet  of  canoeists  might  have  passed  up  the  creek 
without  knowing  that  there  was  a  shanty  within 


250  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

less  than  a  stone's  throw  of  them.  The  only 
visible  sign  that  any  body  had  ever  been  in  the 
creek  was  a  disreputable  looking  punt,  with  a 
stove  and  battered  bow,  which  was  drawn  out 
upon  the  bank.  She  had  had  a  hard  time  of 
it  in  getting  through  the  rapids,  and  it  was  a 
mystery  how  Matt  had  saved  himself  from  a 
capsize,  and  kept  his  miserable  old  craft  afloat 
until  he  could  get  her  up  the  creek.  She  had 
carried  the  squatter  and  all  his  worldly  posses- 
sions for  many  a  long  mile  on  Indian  Lake  and 
its  tributary  streams,  but  her  days  of  useful- 
ness were  over  now.  Her  trip  down  the  rapids 
was  the  last  she  ever  made.  She  was  in  Slier- 
win' s  Pond  and  there  she  must  stay. 

"Hi,  there !  "  yelled  Matt,  as  he  ran  the  bow 
of  the  canvas  canoe  upon  the  bank. 

An  answering  yelp  came  from  the  bushes,  and 
presently  Matt's  wife  and  boys  came  hurrying 
out.  They  would  not  have  expressed  the  least 
surprise  if  the  squatter  had  come  back  with  as 
many  turkeys  or  chickens  as  he  could  con- 
veniently carry,  because  they  were  accustomed 
to  such  things  ;  but  to  see  him  in  possession  of 
a  nice  little  canoe,  live  silver  mounted  fishing 


OFF  FOR  INDIAN   LAKE.  251 

rods  and  as  many  big  bundles,  excited  their 
astonishment. 

"  Where  did  you  get  'em,  old  man,  an'  what's 
into  them  there  bundles?"  was  the  woman's 
whispered  inquiry. 

"  I  got  'em  up  there  in  the  pond  clost  to  the 
foot  of  the  rapids,"  answered  Matt,  gleefully. 
"I'll  learn  them  rich  fellers  up  to  Mount  Airy 
to  treat  a  gentleman  right  the  next  time  they 
see  one.  We're  jest  as  good  as  they  be  if  we 
are  poor." 

"Course  we  be,"  said  Jake,  Matt's  oldest 
boy.  "  What's  them  there  things — fish  poles  ? 
I  want  one  of  'em." 

"All  right.  You  an'  Sam  take  your  pick, 
an'  we'll  sell  the  rest.  If  you  see  a  feller  that 
is  needin'  a  pole,  you  can  tell  him  that  you 
know  where  he  can  get  one  worth  the 
money." 

"  About  how  much  ?  "  queried  Jake. 

"Wai,"  said  Matt,  reflectively, "  them  poles 
must  have  cost  nigh  onto  five  dollars ;  but 
seein'  that  they're  second  hand  we  will  have 
to  take  a  leetle  less  fur  'em — say  two  an'  a 
half." 


252  JOE   WAYKING   AT  HOME. 

"An'  how  mncli  be  them  there  things  with 
the  cranks  onto  'em  wuth  ?  "  asked  Sam. 

"  'Bout  the  same.  You  tell  the  feller,  when 
you  find  him,  that  he  can  have  a  pole  an'  a 
windlass  fur  five  dollars." 

This  showed  how  much  the  squatter  knew 
about  some  things.  There  wasn't  a  rod  in  the 
lot  that  cost  less  than  twenty  dollars,  or  a  reel 
that  was  worth  less  than  thirteen.  Matt  would 
have  thought  himself  rich  if  he  had  known  the 
real  value  of  the  property  he  had  in  his  pos- 
session. 

"What's  into  them  there  bundles?"  de- 
manded the  old  woman. 

' '  Grub, ' '  answered  Matt.    ' '  Good  grub,  too. ' ' 

In  less  time  than  it  takes  to  tell  it,  the  bun- 
dles had  been  jerked  out  of  the  canoe  and 
torn  open.  Matt's  family  was  always  hungry, 
and  his  wife  and  boys  fairly  gloated  over  the 
hard  boiled  eggs,  bacon,  sardines,  sandwiches 
and  other  nice  things  which  the  boys'  thought- 
ful mothers  had  put  up  for  their  dinner. 

"  Rich  folks  has  nice  grub  to  eat,  don't 
they?"  said  Jake,  speaking  as  plainly  as  a 
mouthful  of  bread  and  meat  would  permit. 


OFF  FOE  INDIAN   LAKE.  253" 

"Yes;  an'  we'll  soon  be  in  a  fix  to  have 
nice  things,  too,"  said  Matt,  confidently. 
"I've  got  a  boat  of  my  own  now,  an'  I'm  goin' 
to  Injun  Lake  an'  set  myself  up  fur  a 
guide." 

"  But,  pap,  they  drove  us  away  from  there 
once,"  exclaimed  Jake.  "  They  was  jest  like 
the  Mount  Airy  folks — they  didn't  want  us 
around. '{ 

"Don't  I  know  it?"  cried  Matt,  laying 
down  his  sandwich  long  enough  to  shake  both 
his  fists  in  the  air.  "But  they  won't  drive  us 
away  again,  I  bet  you,  'cause  it'll  be  wuss  for 
'em  if  they  try  it.  I'll  kick  upsich  a  rumpus 
in  them  woods  that  every  body  will  steer  cl'ar 
of  'em  ;  then  what' 11  become  of  them  big  hotels 
when  they  ain't  got  no  custom  to  support 'em? 
I  reckon  we'd  best  be  gettin'  away  from  here 
this  very  night.  I'm  in  a  hurry  to  get  to 
guidin'so't  I  can  make  some  money  before  the 
season' s  over,  an'  besides  I  kinder  want  to  get 
outen  the  way  of  that  there  constable.  He'll 
be  along  directly,  lookin'  fur  these  things,  an' 
I  don't  care  to  see  him." 

"  What' 11  we  do  with  the  house  ? "  asked  the 


254  JOE  WAYEING  AT  HOME. 

old  woman.  "We  can't  tote  it  cl'ar  to  the 
lake  on  our  backs." 

' '  Course  not.  We'  11  burn  it  an'  the  punt,  too. 
They  won't  never  be  of  no  more  use,  'cause 
'  taint  no  ways  likely  that  we  shall  ever  come  here 
agin',  an'  we  ain't  goin'  to  leave  'em  fur  them 
Mount  Airy  fellers  to  use  when  they  come  to  the 
pondhuntin'  an'  fishin'." 

The  squatter  need  not  have  borrowed  trouble 
on  this  score.  There  was  not  a  hunter  or  a  fisher- 
man in  the  village  who  could  have  been  induced 
to  occupy  his  shanty  or  use  his  punt,  for,  like 
their  owners,  they  were  things  to  be  avoided. 
But  Matt  and  his  family  seemed  to  think  that 
they  would  be  accommodating  somebody  if  they 
left  them  there,  and  the  order  to  destroy  them 
by  fire  was  carried  out  as  soon  as  they  had 
eaten  the  last  of  the  stolen  provisions. 

While  his  wife  was  engaged  in  removing  the 
bedding  and  cooking  utensils,  and  tying  them 
in  small  bundles  so  that  they  could  be  easily 

v  v 

carried,  and  the  boys  were  at  work  haul- 
ing the  punt  out  of  the  water  and  turning  it  up 
against  the  house  so  that  the  two  would  burn 
together,  Matt  busied  himself  in  putting  the 


OFF   FOR  INDIAN   LAKE.  255 

rods  into  their  cases  ;  after  which  he  walked 
around  the  canvas  canoe  and  gave  it  a  good 
looking  over.  Tom  Bigden  had  told  him  that 
if  he  didn't  want  to  carry  the  canoe  on  his 
back,  he  could  take  it  to  pieces  and  carry  it  in 
his  hand  as  he  would  a  gripsack  ;  but  the 
trouble  was,  Matt  did  not  know  how  to  go  to 
work  to  take  it  apart.  Every  thing  fitted 
snugly,  and  he  could  not  find  any  place  to  begin. 
The  only  parts  of  it  that  he  could  move  were 
the  bottom  boards ;  and  when  he  had  taken 
them  out,  the  frame -work  of  the  canoe  was  as 
solid  as  ever.  He  spent  a  quarter  of  a  hour  in 
unavailing  efforts  to  start  something,  and  then 
giving  it  up  as  a  task  beyond  his  powers,  he 
decided  that  the  only  thing  he  could  do  was  to 
carry  it  as  he  would  carry  any  other  canoe.  A 
less  experienced  man  would  have  shrunk  from 
the  undertaking.  It  was  fully  twenty  miles  to 
the  river  which  connected  the  two  lakes,  and 
the  course  lay  through  a  dense  forest  where 
there  was  not  even  the  semblance  of  a  path. 
But  there  was  no  other  way  to  get  the  canoe  to 
Indian  Lake. 
Meanwhile,  Matt's  wife  and  boys  had  worked 


256  JOE   WAYRING    AT    HOME. 

to  such  good  purpose  that  every  tiling  was 
ready  for  the  start.  Each  one  had  a  bundle  to 
carry,  and  the  boys  had  set  fire  to  a  quantity  of 
light  wood  which  they  had  piled  in  the  middle 
of  the  shanty.  They  lingered  long  enough  to 
see  the  fire  fairly  started,  and  then  turned 
their  faces  hopefully  toward  Indian  Lake,  the 
old  woman  leading  the  way,  and  Matt  bringing 
up  the  rear  with  the  canvas  canoe  on  his  back. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

/ 

SNAGGED  AND  SUNK. 

HAVING  plenty  of  time  at  their  disposal, 
Joe  Wayring  and  his  friends  were  in  no 
particular  hurry  to  reach  Indian  Lake.  After 
they  entered  the  river  they  kept  the  skiff  mov- 
ing rapidly,  but  at  the  same  time  they  did  not 
neglect  to  keep  their  eyes  open  for  "  rovers  " 
—that  is,  any  objects,  animate  or  inanimate, 
that  would  give  them  an  opportunity  to  try 
their  skill  with  their  long  bows.  If  a  thieving 
crow,  a  murderous  blue  jay,  or  a  piratical  king- 
fisher showed  himself  within  range,  the  sharp 
hiss  of  an  arrow  admonished  him  that  there 
were  enemies  close  at  hand.  Kingfishers  were 
objects  of  especial  dislike.  The  boys  were  fish 
Guitarists  in  a  small  way,  and  had  stocked  a 
pond  on  Mr.  Sheldon's  grounds.  On  the  very 
day  that  the  "fry"  were  put  into  it,  the  king- 


258  JOE  WAYRING   AT  HOME. 

fishers  and  minks  made  their  appearance,  and 
then  began  a  contest  which  had  been  kept  up 
ever  since.  By  the  aid  of  traps  and  breech- 
loaders the  boys  waged  an  incessant  warfare 
upon  the  interlopers,  and  finally  succeeded  in 
thinning  them  out  so  that  the  trout  were 
allowed  to  rest  in  comparative  peace. 

The  boys  did  not  stop  at  noon,  but  ate  their 
lunch  as  they  floated  along  with  the  current. 
The  monotony  of  the  afternoon's  run  was 
broken  by  an  hour's  chase  after  an  eagle,  which 
they  did  not  succeed  in  shooting,  although  one 
of  Roy' s  arrows  ruffled  the  feathers  on  his  back, 
and  by  a  long  search  for  an  otter  which  swam 
across  the  river  in  advance  of  them.  About 
four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  they  reached  a 
favorite  camping,  or  rather,  anchoring  ground, 
a  deep  pool  noted  for  its  fine  yellow  perch, 
and  there  they  decided  to  stop  for  the  night. 
The  anchor  was  dropped  overboard  just  above 
the  pool,  and  when  the  skiff  swung  to  the  cur- 
rent, the  bait-rods  they  had  purchased  to 
replace  those  that  Matt  Coyle  had  stolen  from 
them,  were  taken  out  of  the  lockers,  floats 
were  rigged,  a  box  of  worms  which  they  had 


SNAGGED   AND   SUNK.  259 

been  thoughtful  enough  to  bring  with  them 
was  opened,  and  the  sport  commenced. 

The  fish  in  that  pool  were  always  hungry,  and 
the  floats  disappeared  as  fast  as  they  were 
dropped  into  the  water.  A  few  "fingerlings  " 
were  put  back  to  be  caught  again  after  they 
had  had  time  to  grow  larger,  but  the  most  of 
those  they  captured  were  fine  fellows,  and 
heavy  enough  to  make  a  stubborn  resistance. 
In  less  than  half  an  hour  they  had  taken  all 
they  wanted  for  supper,  and  then  the  anchor 
was  pulled  up  and  the  skiff  drawn  alongside  the 
bank.  Roy  and  Joe  went  ashore  to  clean  the 
fish,  and  Arthur  staid  in  the  boat  to  put  up 
the  tent.  This  done,  he  brought  out  a  pocket 
cooking  stove  which  he  placed  on  the  for- 
ward locker,  and  by  the  time  the  fish  were  ready, 
he  had  an  omelet  browning  in  the  frying  pan. 
That,  together  with  an  ample  supply  of  fried 
perch,  bread  and  butter  and  a  cup  of  weak  tea, 
made  up  a  supper  to  which  they  did  full  jus- 
tice. 

There  were  still  a  few  hours  of  daylight  left, 
and  as  soon  as  the  dishes  had  been  washed  and 
packed  away  in  the  locker,  the  boys  took  their 


260  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

bows  and  went  ashore  to  stretch  their  legs  and 
shoot  at  "rovers".  Arthur  succeeded  in 
bringing  down  a  kingfisher  after  half  an 
hour's  hard  stalking,  and  his  companions  shot 
a  squirrel  apiece  for  breakfast.  Just  at  dusk 
they  met  at  the  boat,  which  was  hauled  out  into 
the  stream  and  anchored.  The  jack-lamp  was 
lighted  and  hung  upon  one  of  the  poles  that 
supported  the  tent,  the  rubber  mattress  was 
inflated,  and  the  three  friends  lounged  around 
and  talked  until  they  began  to  grow  sleepy. 
Then  the  blankets  and  pillows  were  brought  to 
light,  one  side  of  the  tent  was  buttoned  down 
to  the  gunwale,  the  other  being  left  up  to 
admit  the  air,  and  the  boys  laid  down  to  sleep, 
trusting  to  Jim  to  give  them  notice  of  the 
approach  of  danger.  .  He  gave  them  notice 
before  three  hours  had  passed  away. 

About  midnight  the  spaniel,  which  for  half 
an  hour  or  more  had  been  very  restless,  sud- 
denly jumped  to  his  feet  and  set  up  a  fright- 
ful yelping.  If  some  one  had  been  pounding 
him  he  could  not  have  been  in  greater  distress. 
The  boys  started  up  in  alarm  to  find  the  sky 
overcast  with  black  clouds,  the  wind  coming 


SNAGGED  AND   SUNK.  261 

down  the  river  in  strong  and  fitful  gusts  and 
the  anchor  dragging.  There  was  a  storm  com- 
ing up,  it  promised  to  be  a  severe  one,  too,  but 
it  did  not  find  the  young  voyagers  unprepared 
to  meet  it.  The  forward  end  of  the  tent  was 
promptly  rolled  up,  a  spare  anchor  dropped 
into  the  water,  and  the  skiff  was  again  brought 
to  a  stand-still.  By  that  time  the  rain  was 
falling  in  sheets,  but  the  boys  paid  no  sort  of 
attention  to  it.  They  buttoned  the  tent  down 
all  around  and  went  to  sleep  again,  fully  satis- 
fied with  the  precautions  they  had  taken.  Jim 
was  satisfied  too,  although  he  thought  it  nec- 
essary to  slumber  lightly.  Whenever  a  strong 
gust  of  wind  came  roaring  down  the  river,  he 
would  turn  his  head  on  one  side  and  look  criti- 
cally at  the  anchor  ropes,  which  led  through 
ring-bolts  in  the  bow,  and  were  made  fast  to 
cleats  on  the  forward  locker ;  and  having  made 
sure  that  the  ground  tackle  was  doing  its  full 
duty,  he  would  go  to  sleep  again. 

The  night  passed  without  further  incident, 
the  morning  dawned  clear  and  bright,  and 
after  a  breakfast  of  fried  perch  and  broiled 
squirrel,  the  boys  resumed  their  journey  toward 


262  JOE   WAYRIISTG   AT  HOME. 

Indian  Lake.  On  the  evening  of  the  fifth  day 
after  leaving  Mount  Airy,  they  found  them- 
selves within  a  short  distance  of  their  destina- 
tion ;  but  instead  of  going  on  to  the  lake  they 
turned  into  a  creek  which  connected  the  river 
with  a  lonely  pond  that  lay  deep  in  the  forest. 
They  did  not  intend  to  go  to  Indian  Lake  until 
they  stood  in  need  of  supplies.  There  were 
big  hotels  and  a  crowd  of  guests  there,  and 
they  saw  enough  of  them  at  home.  To  quote 
from  Joe  Wayring,  their  object  was  to  get 
away  from  every  body  and  be  lazy. 

The  sun  went  down  long  before  they  turned 
into  the  creek,  and  night  was  coming  on  ;  but 
they  pushed  ahead  in  order  to  reach  a  favorite 
anchorage  in  the  mouth  of  a  little  brook,  whose 
waters  could  be  relied  on  to  furnish  them  with 
a  breakfast  of  trout.  They  laid  out  all  their 
strength  on  the  oars  and  the  skiff  flew  swiftly 
and  noiselessly  up  the  stream,  its  movements 
being  governed  by  Arthur  Hastings,  who 
looked  over  his  shoulder  now  and  then  to  take 
his  bearings.  After  they  had  been  speeding 
along  for  half  an  hour,  he  began  keeping  a 
sharp  lookout  for  the  brook ;  and  once  when 


SNAGGED   AND   SUNK.  263 

he  turned  around  he  thought  he  saw  a  moving 
object  in  the  creek  a  short  distance  away.  He 
looked  again,  and  a  thrill  of  exultation  and 
excitement  ran  all  through  him. 

"Joe,"  said  he,  in  a  scarcely  audible 
whisper,  "there's  your  canvas  canoe,  as  sure  as 
I'm  a  foot  high." 

"  Where?  "  exclaimed  Joe  and  Roy,  turning 
quickly  about  on  their  seats. 

In  reply  Arthur  pointed  silently  up  the 
creek.  His  companions  looked,  and  then  they 
too  became  excited.  There  was  a  canoe  in 
advance  of  them  sure  enough,  and  dark  as  it 
was,  they  instantly  recognized  it  as  the  one 
Matt  Coyle  had  stolen  from  Joe  Way- 
ring. 

There  was  somebody  in  it,  and  he  was  plying 
his  double  paddle  as  if  he  were  in  a  great  hurry 
He  did  not  appear  to  know  that  there  was  any. 
one  besides  himself  in  the  creek,  for  he  never 
once  looked  behind  him. 

"  It  isn't  big  enough  for  Matt,  and  so  it  must 
be  one  of  his  boys,"  whispered  Roy. 

"  Boy  or  man,  he  shall  not  go  much  further 
with  that  canoe."  said  Joe  in  a  resolute  tone. 


264  JOE  WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

"That's  my  boat  and  I'm  going  to  have  it,  if 
you  fellows  will  stand  by  me." 

"  Now  Joe  !  "  exclaimed  Roy,  reproachfully. 

"I  didn't  mean  that.  Of  course  I  know 
that  you  can  be  depended  on,"  said  Joe,  hast- 
ily. "Let's  take  after  him.  Tf  we  find  that 
we  can't  take  the  canoe  away  from  him,  we'll 
sink  her.  Matt  Coyle  shan't  have  her  any 
longer." 

The  three  oars  fell  into  the  water  simultan- 
eously, and  the  skiff  shot  silently  up  the  creek 
in  pursuit  of  the  canoe,  whose  occupant  was 
making  his  double  paddle  whirl  through  the  air 
like  the  shafts  of  a  windmill.  An  oar  rattled 
behind  him  and  aroused  him  from  his  reverie. 
He  faced  about  to  see  the  skiff  close  upon  him. 
The  night  had  grown  so  dark  that  he  could  not 
tell  who  the  crew  were,  but  he  knew  that  they 
would  not  come  at  him  in  that  fashion  unless 
they  had  some  object  in  view.  Matt  and  his  boys 
always  had  the  fear  of  the  law  before  their  eyes, 
and  Jake,  believing  that  a  constable  or  deputy 
sheriff  was  in  pursuit  of  him,  turned  about  and 
churned  the  water  into  foam  in  his  desperate 
attempt  to  outrun  the  skiff.  He  succeeded  in 


SNAGGED   AND   SUNK.  265 

getting  a  good  deal  of  speed  out  of  his  clumsy 
craft,  but  fast  as  he  went  the  pursuers  gained 
at  every  stroke. 

"  Hold  on  with  that  boat !  "  shouted  Arthur. 
"We've  got  you  and  you  might  as  well  give 
in." 

But  Jake  wasn't  that  sort.  He  redoubled 
his  exertions  with  the  paddle,  but  all  of  a  sud- 
den his  progress  was  stopped  so  quickly  that 
Jake  left  his  seat  and  pitched  headlong  into 
the  bow  of  the  canoe.  Speaking  in  western 
parlance  he  had  "picked  up  a  snag"  whose 
sharp,  gnarled  end  penetrated  the  canvas  cov- 
ering of  the  canoe,  tearing  a  hole  in  it  that  was 
as  big  as  Jake's  head.  It  did  not  hang  there 
but  floated  oif  with  the  current,  and  began  fill- 
ing rapidly.  In  a  few  seconds  she  was  out  of 
sight,  and  Jake  was  making  all  haste  to  reach 
the  shore.  A  moment  later  the  skiff  dashed 
up,  and  Roy  Sheldon  struck  a  vicious  blow  at 
the  swimmer  with  his  oar  ;  but  he  was  just  out 
of  reach.  A  few  long  strokes  brought  him  to 
shallow  water,  two  jumps  took  him  to  dry  land, 
and  in  an  instant  more  he  was  out  of  sight  in 
the  bushes. 


266  JOE   WAYRING   AT  HOME. 

"What  tumbled  him  out  so  suddenly?" 
exclaimed  Joe. 

"  Look  out,  boys  !  There's  a  snag  right  under 
us,"  said  Roy. 

"  Where  in  the  world  is  the  boat  ? "  inquired 
Arthur. 

"  There  she  is,"  answered  Joe,  pointing  to  a 
swirl  in  the  water  which  marked  the  spot  where 
the  canvas  canoe  was  quietly  settling  down  on 
the  bottom  of  the  creek. 

"  Sunk  !  "  cried  Roy.  "So  she  is.  She  must 
have  a  cargo  of  some  sort  aboard,  or  she  would 
not  have  gone  down  like  that.  Now,  what's  to 
be  done?" 

"We  can't  do  any  thing  to-night,"  replied 
Joe.  "I  propose  that  we  anchor  here  and  wait 
until  morning  comes  to  show  us  how  she  lies. 
If  the  water  isn't  over  thirty  feet  deep  we  can 
raise  her." 

The  others  agreeing  to  this  proposition,  the 
ground  tackle  was  got  overboard,  and  Roy,  who 
handled  the  rope,  encouraged  Joe  by  assuring 
him  that  the  water  was  not  an  inch  over  twelve 
feet  deep. 

"If  that  is  the  case,"  said  the  latter,  hope- 


SNAGGED   AND   SUNK.  267 

fully,  "  I  shall  soon  have  my  boat  back  again. 
It  will  be  no  trouble  at  all  to  take  a  line  down 
twelve  feet.  I'd  give  something  to  know  what 
she  is  loaded  with." 

"Contraband  goods,  I'll  be  bound,"  said 
Arthur.  "The  fruits  of  a  raid  on  somebody's 
smoke-house  or  hen-roost.  I  am  sorry  to  know 
that  Matt  Coyle  is  in  the  neighborhood,  for  we 
don't  know  at  what  moment  he  may  jump  down 
on  us  and  steal  something." 

' '  We  mustn'  t  let  him  catch  us  off  our  guard, ' ' 
said  Roy.  "  It  won't  be  safe  to  leave  the  skiff 
alone  for  a  minute." 

The  boys'  hands  were  as  busy  as  their 
tongues,  and  in  a  short  time  the  tent  was  up,  a 
light  from  the  jack-lamp  was  streaming  out 
over  the  water,  and  the  appetizing  odor  of  fried 
bacon  filled  the  air.  The  knowledge  that  the 
thieving  squatter  was  no  great  distance  away, 
and  that  he  might  make  his  appearance  at  any 
moment,  did  not  cause  them  to  eat  lighter  sup- 
pers than  usual,  nor  did  it  interfere  with  their 
customary  sound  and  refreshing  sleep.  They 
felt  safe  from  attack.  They  did  not  believe 
that  Matt  Coyle  had  a  boat  (they  knew  very 


268  JOE   TVAYRING   AT  HOME. 

well  that  he  could  not  have  brought  the  punt 
with  him),  and  consequently  there  was  no  way 
for  him  to  reach  them  unless  he  resorted  to 
swimming  ;  and  they  did  not  think  he  would 
be  foolish  enough  to  try  that. 

The  boys  slept  soundly  that  night,  but  the 
next  morning's  sun  found  them  astir.  Arthur 
made  a  cup  of  coffee  over  the  pocket  cooking 
stove,  after  which  the  tent  was  taken  down,  and 
Joe  Wayring  made  ready  for  business  by 
divesting  himself  of  his  clothing. 

The  first  thing  was  to  find  out  just  where  the 
canoe  lay,  and  that  did  not  take  them  as  long 
as  they  thought  it  would.  The  water  was  as 
clear  as  crystal,  and  every  thing  on  the  bottom 
could  be  plainly  seen  by  Joe  and  Roy,  who 
leaned  as  far  as  they  could  over  opposite  sides 
of  the  skiff,  while  Arthur  rowed  them  back  and 
forth  in  the  vicinity  of  the  snag. 

"  There  she  is  !"  cried  Roy,  suddenly;  and 
as  he  spoke  he  caught  up  the  anchor  and  drop- 
ped it  overboard.  "  We're  right  over  her,  and 
there  isn't  a  snag  or  any  other  obstruction  in 
the  way." 

Joe    Wayring   stepped   upon   the    forward 


SNAGGED   AND   SUNK.  269 

locker,  holding  in  his  hand  one  end  of  a  rope 
which  he  had  coiled  down  on  the  bottom  of  the 
skiif  so  that  it  would  run  out  easily,  and  as 
soon  as  the  boat  stopped  swinging  he  dived  out 
of  sight.  When  the  commotion  in  the  water 
occasioned  by  his  descent  had  ceased,  his  com- 
panions could  observe  every  move  he  made  as 
he  scrambled  about  over  the  sunken  canoe,  and 
presently  they  saw  him  coming  up. 

"  Haul  away,"  said  Joe,  as  he  shook  the 
water  from  his  face  and  climbed  back  into  the 
skiff. 

"  What's  it  fast  to  ?"  asked  Roy. 

"  A  bag  of  potatoes." 

"What  did  I  tell  you  ?"  exclaimed  Arthur 
Hastings.  "  I  knew  that  fellow  had  been  on  a 
plundering  expedition." 

"  But  you  thought  he  had  been  robbing 
somebody's  hen-roost  or  smoke-house,"  Roy 
reminded  him. 

"  And  so  he  has,"  said  Joe.  "  There's  a 
whole  side  of  bacon  down  there." 

The  boys  pulled  gently  on  the  line,  and 
presently  the  bag  of  potatoes  came  to  the  sur- 
face. It  was  seized  and  hauled  into  the  skiff, 


270  JOE   WAY  KING  AT  HOME. 

the  line  was  unfastened  and  passed  over  to  Joe, 
who  was  about  to  go  down  again,  when  his 
movements  were  arrested  by  the  snapping  of 
twigs  and  the  sound  of  voices  which  came  from 
the  depths  of  the  woods.  They  were  angry 
voices,  too,  and  rendered  somewhat  indistinct 
by  distance  and  intervening  bushes,  but  the 
boys  recognized  them  at  once. 

' l  There  comes  Matt  Coyle,  his  wife  and  both 
their  boys,"  said  Joe.  ''  Now  we  shall  hear 
something." 

"  I  wonder  what  they  think  they  are  going  to 
do,"  said  Roy.  "  Just  listen  to  the  noise  they 
make  in  crashing  through  the  brush.  One 
would  think  there  were  a  lot  of  wild  cattle  in 
there." 

Joe  Wayring  did  not  await  their  appearance, 
but  went  down  to  reeve  the  line  through  a 
ring-bolt  in  the  stern-post  of  the  sunken  canoe, 
and  to  bring  up  her  painter  and  the  side  of 
bacon.  When  he  arose  to  the  surface  Matt 
Coyle  and  his  family  were  striding  up  and 
down  the  bank,  shaking  their  fists  and  swearing 
lustily. 

"That  there  is  my  hog-meat,  too,"  roared 


SNAGGED   AND   SUNK.  271 

the  squatter,  as  Joe  tossed  the  bacon  into  the 
skiff.  "  I  want  it  an'  I'm  goin'  to  have  it,  I 
tell  you." 

"  We  don't  know  that  these  provisions 
rightfully  belong  to  you,"  said  Roy.  "We 
have  an  idea  that  you  stole  them  last  night 
or,  rather,— 

"  No,  I  didn't  steel  'em  nuther,"  shouted 
Matt. 

"  Or,  rather,  that  one  of  your  boys  did," 
continued  Roy,  while  Joe  hung  on  to  the  side 
of  the  skiff  and  looked  over  it  at  the  angry 
party  on  the  shore.  "  I  am  sure  we  don't 
want  them." 

"  Then  bring  'em  ashore  like  we  told  you," 
screamed  the  old  woman.  "You're  thieves 
yourselves  if  you  keep  'em." 

"  Do  you  see  any  thing  green  about  us?" 
demanded  Arthur.  "I'll  tell  you  what  we 
will  do  :  If  you  will  stay  there  on  the  bank  in 
plain  sight  until  we  get  our  boat  raised,  we 
will  go  up  the  creek  and  leave  the  potatoes  and 
bacon  opposite  the  mouth  of  the  trout  brook,  so 
that  you  can  get  them  after  we  have  gone  away. 
What  are  you  going  to  do  with  those  sticks  ?  " 


272  JOE  WAYRING   AT  HOME. 

he  added,  addressing  himself  to  the  two  boys 
who  just  then  came  out  of  the  bushes  with  a 
heavy  club  in  each  hand. 

"  We're  goin'  to  knock  you  out  o'  that 
boat  if  you  don't  fetch  that  there  grub  of  our'n 
ashore  without  no  more  foolin',"  answered 
Jake,  in  threatening  tones.  "  It's  our'n  an' 
we're  goin'  to  have  it  back." 

"  That's  the  idee,  Jakey,"  exclaimed  the 
old  woman,  approvingly.  "  Knock  the  young 
'ristocrats  out  o'  their  boat.  I  reckon  that'll 
bring  'em  to  time." 

"  If  you  try  that,  I'll  lay  some  of  you  out 
flatter  than  so  many  pancakes,"  returned  Roy, 
defiantly  ;  and  as  he  spoke  he  tore  open  the 
bag  containing  the  potatoes.  Catching  up  one 
in  each  hand,  his  example  being  promptly 
followed  by  Arthur  Hastings,  he  arose  to  his 
feet  just  in  time  to  dodge  one  of  Jake's  clubs, 
which  came  whirling  through  the  air  straight 
for  his  head.  Before  the  missile  had  struck 
the  water  on  the  other  side  of  the  skiff,  Roy 
launched  one  of  his  potatoes  at  the  aggressor. 
Like  most  left-handed  fellows  Roy  could  throw 
like  lightning  ;  and  the  potato,  flying  true  to 


SNAGGED   AND  SUNK.  273 

its  aim  and  with  terrific  force,  struck  Jake 
fairly  in  the  pit  of  the  stomach,  and  doubled 
him  up  like  a  jack-knife. 

"  That's  the  idee,  Jakey,"  yelled  Joe  Way- 
ring,  who  was  delighted  with  the  accuracy  of 
his  chum's  shot.  "  Knock  them  young  'risto- 
crats  out  o'  their  boat.  I  reckon  that'll  bring 
'em  to  time.  Throw  another,  Jakey.'' 

But  Jake  was  in  no  condition  to  throw 
another.  It  was  a  long  time  before  he  could  get 
his  breath  ;  and  when  he  did  get  it,  the  howls 
with  which  he  awoke  the  echoes  of  the  surround- 
ing woods  were  wonderful  to  hear.  The  squat- 
ter's  family,  believing  that  Jake  had  been  mor- 
tally wounded,  gathered  about  him  with  expres- 
sions of  sympathy,  and  Joe  Wayringtook  advan- 
tage of  the  confusion  to  climb  into  the  skiff 
and  put  on  his  clothes.  If  there  was 
going  to  be  a  fight  he  wanted  to  take  a  hand  in 
it. 

"  Whoop  !  "  shrieked  the  old  woman,  rolling 
up  her  sleeves  and  shaking  a  pair  of  huge,  tan- 
colored  fists  at  the  object  of  her  wrath.  "  If  I 
was  a  man  I'd  swim  off  to  that  there  boat  an' 
maul  the  last  one  of  you.  Matt,  why  don't 


274  JOE  WAYEING  AT  HOME. 

you  do  it  ?  Seems  like  you  was  afeard  of  them 
fellers." 

"Yes,  Matt,  why  don't  you  do  it?"  said 
Arthur,  encouragingly. 

"  Yes,  Matt,  show  a  little  pluck,"  chimed  in 
Roy.  "  Come  on.  Swim  off  to  us  ;  and  if  I 
don't  sink  you  before  you  have  got  ten  feet 
from  the  shore,  I'm  a  Dutchman." 

"I  don't  think  we  have  any  thing  more  to 
fear  from  them,"  said  Joe,  in  a  low  tone. 
1 '  It's  a  lucky  thing  for  us  that  Roy  thought  of 
using  those  potatoes.  If  we  had  nothing  to 
defend  ourselves  with  they  could  drive  us 
away  from  here  very  easily.  Now  let's  raise 
the  canoe,  and  go  up  to  the  brook  and  catch 
our  breakfast.  I'  m  getting  hungry. ' ' 

It  was  scarcely  two  minutes'  work  to  bring 
the  wreck  to  the  surface.  It  readily  yielded  to 
the  strain  that  Joe  and  Arthur  brought  to  bear 
upon  the  lines,  and  as  soon  as  they  could, get 
hold  of  it,  they  drew  it  into  the  skiff  stern 
foremost,  thus  compelling  the  water  with  which 
it  was  filled  to  run  out  at  the  hole  in  the  bow. 
After  that  it  was  turned  bottom  upward  over 
the  stern  locker  and  lashed  fast.  Of  course 


SNAGGED   AND   SUNK.  275 

Matt  Coyle  and  his  family  had  not  been  silent 
all  this  while.  They  had  kept  up  a  constant 
storm  of  threats  and  abuse,  and  the  squatter 
fairly  danced  with  rage  when  he  saw  the  boat, 
with  which  he  had  expected  to  accomplish  so 
much  in  the  way  of  "  independent  guidin'  "  was 
lost  to  him  forever.  But  they  did  not  attempt 
any  more  violence,  for  Roy  stood  guard  over  his 
companions  with  a  potato  in  each  hand,  and 
ready  to  open  fire  on  them  at  any  moment. 

"  Now,  then  !  "  exclaimed  Joe,  as  he  pulled 
up  the  anchor  while  the  other  boys  shipped 
their  oars,  "  do  you  want  these  provisions,  or 
don't  you?" 

"Course  I  want  'em,"  growled  Matt,  in 
reply.  "They're  mine,  an'  we  ain't  got  no 
grub  to  eat." 

"  All  right.  I  don't  suppose  that  you  have 
the  shadow  of  a  right  to  them,  but  we  will  give 
them  up  to  you  if  you  will  do  as  we  say." 

"Wai,  T  won't  do  as  you  say,  nuther," 
declared  Matt.  "  I  ain't  goin'  to  let  myself  be 
bossed  around  by  no  'ristocrats,  I  bet  you." 

"  Then  you  shan't  have  the  potatoes,"  said 
Joe,  decidedly.  "  Give  way,  boys." 


276  JOE  WAYKING  AT   HOME. 

"Say!  Hold  on,  there,"  exclaimed  Matt, 
whose  larder  was  empty  and  had  been  for  some 
time.  "What  do  you  want  me  to  do  ?  " 

"We  want  you  to  stay  right  thereon  the 
bank  until  we  can  go  up  and  land  your  provis- 
ions on  the  point  opposite  the  mouth  of  the 
brook,"  replied  Joe.  "You  must  keep  out  in 
plain  sight,  mind  you,  for  if  you  go  back  into 
the  woods  we  shall  think  you  are  up  to  some- 
thing, and  then  you  can  whistle  for  your 
grub." 

As  Joe  said  this  he  shipped  an  oar,  and  the 
skiif  moved  up  the  creek  toward  the  point. 
The  boys  kept  a  close  watch  over  Matt  Coyle, 
but  he  never  left  the  bank.  He  was  biding  his 
time,  so  he  told  his  wife  and  boys.  Joe  and 
his  friends  had  the  advantage  of  him  now,  but 
there  might  come  a  day  when  he  could  catch 
them  off  their  guard,  and  then  they  had  better 
look  out.  If  he  couldn'  t  take  vengeance  on  them 
this  summer,  he  would  do  it  next  summer. 
He  would  follow  them  wherever  they  went ; 
and  if  he  couldn't  get  a  chance  to  steal 
every  thing  they  had,  he  would  make  the 
country  about  Indian  Lake  so  warm  for  them 


SNAGGED   AND   SUNK.  277 

that  they  would  be  glad  to  go  somewhere  else 
to  spend  their  vacations. 

As  Matt  remained  on  the  bank  in  plain  sight 
and  did  not  attempt  to  approach  them  under 
cover  of  the  bushes,  the  boys  landed  the  pro- 
visions, according  to  promise — that  is,  they  put 
some  of  them  on  the  point ;  but  Roy  was  sharp 
enough  to  keep  out  about  half  a  peck  of  the 
potatoes  to  be  used  in  case  of  emergency.  This 
being  done,  they  pulled  across  the  creek  into 
the  mouth  of  the  brook  to  catch  a  mess  of 
trout,  which  they  decided  to  cook  over  a  tire  on 
the  bank.  The  breeze  was  so  strong  that  the 
lamp  in  their  little  stove  would  not  burn  in  the 
open  air,  and  they  knew  that  if  they  put  up 
their  tent,  Matt  and  his  boys  would  have  the 
advantage  if  they  opened  a  fire  of  clubs  upon 
them  when  they  came  after  their  potatoes  and 
bacon. 

It  was  well  that  they  took  these  precau- 
tions, for  when  the  squatter  appeared  on 
the  opposite  bank  he  was  fierce  for  a  fight.  He 
and  his  backers  were  all  armed  with  clubs,  one 
of  which  was  sent  sailing  through  the  air 
toward  the  skiff.  Jim  was  sitting  on  one  of 


278  JOE   WAYRINQ  AT   HOME. 

the  lockers,  impatiently  waiting  to  be  called  to 
breakfast,  and  the  club,  after  glancing  from  the 
side  of  the  boat,  struck  him  in  the  ribs  and 
tumbled  him  off  into  the  creek. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 
;  HISTORIAN   CONCLUDES   HIS   NARRATIVE. 


"  'TTTHOOP-EE!  "  yelled  Matt  Coyle,  danc- 
V  V  ing  about  on  the  bank  in  high  glee. 
"  That  was  a  good  shot.  Lookout  !  Here  comes 
another  that's  goin'  to  send  some  of  you  to 
keep  company  with  the  purp.  I  reckon  we've 
got  you  whar  we  want  you  this  time,  cause 
the  taters  is  all  on  our  side  the  creek." 

As  the  squatter  spoke  a  second  club  left  his 
hand,  being  thrown  with  so  much  force  and 
accuracy  that  if  the  boys  had  not  been  on  the 
alert,  some  and  perhaps  all  of  them  would  have 
been  knocked  overboard,  for  the  missile  was 
almost  as  long  as  the  cock-pit,  and  as  it  came 
through  the  air  with  a  rotary  motion,  it  cov- 
ered space  enough  to  hit  all  their  heads  at 
once.  This  was  the  signal  for  a  perfect  shower 
of  clubs.  Every  one  of  the  family  had  two  or 
more,  which  were  thrown  as  rapidly  as  they 


280  JOE   WAYRING  AT  HOME. 

could  be  changed  from  one  hand  to  the  other,  and 
Joe  and  his  chums  were  kept  so  busy  dodging 
them,  that  they  could  not  find  opportunity  to 
return  the  fire.  But  when  the  squatter  and 
his  allies  had  thrown  all  their  clubs  without 
effect,  and  thus  disarmed  themselves,  the  boys 
sprang  to  their  feet  and  opened  their  battery. 
The  first  potato  Roy  threw  took  Jake  square 
in  the  mouth,  bringing  forth  another  series 
of  doleful  yells  from  that  unlucky  young 
ruffian,  and  the  second  put  the  old  woman's 
right  arm  in  a  sling  for  a  week.  At  the  same 
moment  Arthur  wiped  out  the  insult  that  had 
been  put  upon  Jim  by  taking  Matt  a  whack 
under  the  eye  that  raised  a  lump  as  large  as  a 
hen's  egg. 

"Whoop-ee!"  shouted  Joe  Wayring,  as  a 
potato  from  his  own  hand  struck  Sam' s  tattered 
cap  from  his  head.  "  That  was  a  bully  shot. 
Look  out!  Here  comes  another.  We  ain't 
got  no  taters  on  this  side  of  the  creek,  I 
reckon." 

The  f usilade  that  followed  was  a  hot  one,  and 
the  squatter  and  his  family,  finding  that  they 
could  not  stand  against  it,  beat  a  hasty  retreat 


THE  HISTORIAN   ENDS   HIS   NARRATIVE.    281 

into  the  bushes.  Then  Arthur  turned  to  assist 
Jim,  who  had  been  making  desperate  but 
unavailing  efforts  to  climb  into  the  skiff.  He 
wasn't  hurt  at  all,  but  he  was  very  mad. 

The  plucky  boys  were  not  called  upon  to 
defend  themselves.  Matt  Coyle  made  an 
attempt  to  secure  the  provisions,  but  went  back 
with  an  aching  head  and  a  bloody  nose,  and 
the  three  chums  saw  no  more  of  him  that  sum- 
mer. But  they  heard  him.  From  his  place  of 
concealment  in  the  bushes  the  squatter  and  his 
wife  abused  them  roundly,  and  shouted  at  them 
threats  that  were  enough  to  frighten  almost 
any  body. 

The  boys  caught  a  fine  string  of  trout,  cooked 
and  ate  breakfast  in  peace,  and  then  kept  on 
up  the  creek  toward  the  pond.  As  soon  as 
they  were  out  of  range,  Matt  and  his  family 
came  from  their  hiding-places  after  the  potatoes 
and  bacon ;  but  they  made  no  demonstration 
beyond  showing  the  boys  their  fists  and  swear- 
ing at  them. 

After  that  things  went  smoothly  with  Joe 
and  his  companions.  They  thoroughly  enjoyed 
their  outing,  and  when  it  was  ended  they  went 


282  JOE   WAYKING  AT  HOME. 

home  with  a  new  lease  of  life,  and  with  brains 
invigorated  to  such  degrees  that  they  were 
ready  to  grapple  with  any  thing  that  might 
come  before  them  during  the  school  term,  which 
was  to  begin  on  the  following  Monday. 

During  the  year  affairs  in  Mount  Airy  moved 
along  in  much  the  same  way  that  they  do  in 
every  little  village  which  can  boast  of  a  popu- 
lar high  school  and  rival  organizations  of 
almost  every  kind.  After  the  canoe  meet,  the 
line  was  sharply  drawn  between  the  two 
opposing  factions.  They  did  not  come  to 
open  warfare,  but  they  were  intensely  hostile, 
and  a  very  little  thing  would  have  precipitated 
a  fight  between  Joe  Wayring  and  his  friends 
on  one  side,  and  Noble,  Scott,  Prime  and  Tom 
Bigden  and  his  cousins  on  the  other ;  for  the 
latter  did  not  long  remain  at  swords'  points 
with  the  boys  who  made  their  head-quarters  at 
the  drug  store.  They  had  a  stormy  time  when 
they  first  came  together,  and  Tom  announced  his 
readiness  to  thrash  all  the  boys  who  had  inter- 
fered with  Loren  during  the  paddle  race,  pro- 
vided they  would  come  one  at  a  time;  but  Prime 
and  a  few  others  exerted  themselves  to  bring 


THE  HISTORIAN   ENDS   HIS   NARRATIVE.     283 

order  out  of  the  confusion,  and  through  their 
efforts  Tom  was  elected  president  of  the  new 
canoe  club  which  was  organized  at  once.  But 
that  did  not  satisfy  him.  If  he  could  have  had 
his  own  way  in  the  matter,  he  would  have  pre- 
ferred to  be  a  respected  member  of  the  other 
club  without  any  office  at  all.  Besides,  Prime 
and  his  friends  could  not  forget  that  Tom,  a 
new-comer,  had  deliberately  "booked"  him- 
self and  his  cousins  for  all  the  best  races,  in 
utter  disregard  of  the  rights  of  those  who 
ought  to  have  been  allowed  to  win.  They 
never  quite  forgave  him  for  that,  and  there  was 
not  that  harmony  in  the  new  club  that  there 
ought  to  have  been  in  order  to  insure  its  pros- 
perity. Tom  was  also  elected  short-stop  in 
Prime's  ball-club,  and  in  the  first  match  game 
that  was  played,  had  the  gratification  of  put- 
ting out  Joe  Wayring  and  Arthur  Hastings 
every  time  they  went  to  the  bat.  That  did 
Tom  more  good  than  any  thing  he  had  accom- 
plished since  he  came  to  Mount  Airy,  although 
he  did  feel  rather  mean  when  Joe  and  Arthur 
complimented  him  on  his  swift  and  accurate 
throwing. 


284  JOE  WATRING  AT   HOME. 

At  the  next  meeting  of  the  Toxophilites 
many  vacancies  were  made  by  the  resignation 
of  boys  who  knew  that  they  stood  a  fine  chance 
of  being  expelled  for  what  they  had  done  at 
the  canoe  meet,  and  by  the  voluntary  with- 
drawal of  a  number  of  others,  who  preferred 
Prime's  company  and  Noble's  to  the  compan- 
ionship of  fellows  who  were  willing  to  be  ruled 
by  a  lot  of  girls. 

In  the  new  club,  of  which  Loren  Farns- 
worth  was  chosen  secretary,  there  were  no 
restrictions  laid  upon  cribbage,  cigars  and 
billiards,  and  so  very  good-natured  was 
the  master  bowman,  that  he  did  not  even  object 
to  pipes  when  his  men  were  drilling  in  the 
ranks.  But  he  insisted  on  prompt  and  regular 
attendance  at  all  the  meetings,  because  he 
wanted  his  company  to  march  in  the  procession 
on  the  next  4th  of  July. 

"  Say,  captain,"  exclaimed  Tom  Bigden  one 
night  after  the  long,  fatiguing  drill  was  over. 
"We  had  forty  men  in  line  to-night,  and  I 
think  we  went  through  the  school  of  the  com- 
pany in  a  very  creditable  way,  if  some  of  us 
are  green.  Couldn't  we  get  up  a  street  parade 


THE  HISTORIAN   ENDS   HIS   NARRATIVE.     285 

just  to  show  the  Toxophilites  that  some  folks 
can  do  things  as  well  as  others  ? " 

The  captain  was  Frank  Noble,  and  a  very 
good  drill-master  he  had  proved  himself  to  be  ; 
although  he  was  hardly  strict  enough  to  suit  a 
veteran,  seeing  that  he  permitted  his  men  to 
smoke  in  the  ranks. 

"I  have  been  thinking  about  that,"  replied 
the  captain,  as  the  young  archers  gathered 
about  him  after  putting  their  long  bows  away 
in  the  lockers.  "But  I  think  it  would  be  bet- 
ter to  wait  awhile.  It  will  not  be  long  before 
the  lake  will  be  frozen  over,  and  then  we  will 
give  an  exhibition  drill  on  the  ice.  What's  the 
matter  with  that  ? " 

* '  Nothing, ' '  shouted  all  the  boys.  "  It' s  the 
very  thing." 

"  Well,  then,  in  order  to  accustom  ourselves 
to  the  movements  and  evolutions,  let  every  fel- 
low bring  his  rollers  next  Thursday  night,  and 
we  will  see  what  we  can  do  with  them." 

The  boys  thought  it  the  best  thing  they  had 
ever  heard  of,  but  Scott  had  a  suggestion  to 
make. 

"Why    can't  we  rent  the  rink  for  a  few 


286  JOE  WAYKING  AT   HOME. 

nights?"  said  he.  "This  armory  is  hardly 
large  enough,  and  besides,  the  floor  isn't  as 
smooth  as  it  might  be." 

"We  could  engage  the  rink,  of  course," 
replied  the  captain.  "But  if  we  do,  the  Tox- 
ophilites  will  find  out  what  is  going  on,  and 
we  don't  want  them  to  know  any  thing  about 
it." 

"Why,  as  to  that,  they  are  bound  to  know 
about  it,"  said  Tom.  "  We  can't  keep  it  from 
them.  You  know  what  a  fearful  noise  rollers 
make,  don' t  you  ? ' ' 

"Well,  we  can't  help  that,"  answered 
Frank.  "If  we  do  our  drilling  here,  they 
can' t  look  through  the  windows  and  see  what 
we  are  about,  as  they  could  if  we  drilled  at  the 
rink.  Now,  if  you  want  to  go  into  this,  you 
must  be  on  hand  every  night.  I  will  promise 
to  get  you  in  fine  trim  by  the  time  the  ice  is  in 
condition,  if  you  will  only  attend  to  busi- 
ness." 

"I  wonder  if  we  couldn't  get  up  a  com- 
petitive drill  with  the  Toxophilites  ? "  said 
Loren. 

"Not  much,"  replied  Prime,  with  a  laugh. 


THE  HISTORIAN   ENDS   HIS   NARRATIVE.     287 

"There  are  too  many  raw  recruits  among 
us." 

"  We'll  wait  and  give  them  a  pull  for  some- 
thing at  the  next  canoe  meet,"  said  Tom. 

"  You  don't  expect  to  enter  for  any  of  the 
prizes  next  summer,  do  you  ? " 

"  Of  course  I  do,"  replied  Tom,  "  and  so  do 
my  cousins.  We  have  sent  to  New  London 
for  a  rowing  machine,  and  intend  to  keep  up 
our  practice  all  winter." 

"  You  might  as  well  make  kindling  wood  of 
that  rowing  machine  when  it  comes  to  hand, 
for  it  will  not  do  you  any  good  as  far  as 
winning  a  prize  from  Joe  Wayring  is  con- 
cerned," said  Scott.  "You  can't  race  with 
him." 

"  I'll  see  how  that  is,"  answered  Tom,  who 
was  thinking  about  one  thing  while  Scott  was 
thinking  about  another.  ' '  I  was  under  the 
impression  that  when  our  new  club  was  organ- 
ized, it  was  the  sentiment  of  the  members  that 
we  were  to  challenge  their  best  men  for  every 
thing.  Before  we  can  do  that,  it  will  be  neces- 
sary to  have  a  series  of  trial  races  among  our- 
selves in  order  to  determine  who  stand  the  best 


288  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

chance  of  winning,  and  I  calculate  to  be  one  of 
the  select  few." 

"I  believe  some  of  the  fellows  did  speak 
about  that,  but  it  was  all  talk,"  said  Captain 
Noble.  "  You  see,  Tom,  you  and  I  have  been 
ruled  out  of  every  thing  by  the  referee's  decis- 
ion on  the  day  of  the  meet,  and  you  don't  sup- 
pose that  our  friends  here  are  going  to  take 
part  in  sports  that  we  can't  have  a  hand  in,  do 
you?  Haven't  we  promised  to  stand  by  one 
another?" 

"Oh,"  said  Tom,  "I  didn't  know  what 
Scott  meant,  but  I  understand  the  matter  now. 
The  others  won't  compete  because  you  and  I 
can't.  I  am  glad  to  hear  it." 

' '  Of  course  we  are  not  barred  out  of  any 
thing  except  the  sports  that  take  place  during 
the  canoe  meet,"  added  Prime.  "We  can 
play  ball  or  lawn  tennis  or  polo  with  them. 
We  can  send  a  team  to  beat  them  at  target 
shooting,  and  we  can  enter  our  sail-boats  for 
prizes  in  the  regatta  ;  but  I,  for  one,  don't  care 
to.  I've  had  quite  enough  of  that  crowd,  and 
think  we  can  see  all  the  fun  we  want  among 
ourselves." 


THE  HISTORIAN   ENDS   HIS   NARRATIVE.     289 

"  I  think  so,  too,"  said  Tom.  "  I  don't  care 
for  their  old  canoe  club,  but  I  should  really 
like  to  see  the  Toxophilites  go  to  pieces.  I'd 
see  Joe  Wayring  happy  before  he  should  come 
into  this  club  with  my  vote." 

If  Tom  Bigden  could  have  stepped  across  the 
street  and  up  the  stairs  that  led  to  the  neatly 
furnished  armory  and  drill-room  in  which 
the  Toxophilites  were  at  that  moment  sitting 
down  to  an  oyster  supper  that  some  of  the  new 
members  had  provided  for  them,  he  would,  per- 
haps, have  been  very  much  disappointed  to  dis- 
cover that  the  organization  he  hated  so  cordially 
because  he  could  not  get  into  it,  was  not  only 
in  no  danger  of  falling  to  pieces,  but  that  it 
was  stronger  than  it  had  ever  been  before.  The 
vacancies  occasioned  by  the  resignation  of 
Frank  Noble  and  his  friends,  had  been 
promptly  filled  by  good  fellows,  who  had 
waited  long  and  patiently  for  an  opportunity 
to  send  in  their  names.  More  than  that  (and 
this  was  something  that  made  Tom  and  his 
cousins  very  angry  when  they  found  it  out),  the 
constitution  had  been  amended  so  that  the 
membership  could  be  increased  to  a  hundred. 


290  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

The  Toxophilites  were  determined  that  the 
Mount  Airy  Scouts  (that  was  the  name  of  the 
new  club),  should  not  beat  them  if  they  could 
help  it ;  but  still  they  did  not  take  in  every 
one  who  applied  for  admission,  as  the  Scouts 
did. 

During  the  winter  Tom  Bigden  and  his 
cousins,  who  grew  more  vindictive  and  unrea- 
sonable in  their  hatred  as  time  progressed, 
waged  a  secret  but  incessant  warfare  upon  Joe 
Wayring  and  his  two  chums.  They  coaxed 
Mars  from  the  post-office  to  the  drug-store,  and 
sent  him  home  with  a  tin  can  tied  to  his  tail. 
They  practiced  with  their  long  bows  at  Roy 
Sheldon's  fan-tail  and  tumbler  pigeons  as  often 
as  the  birds  ventured  over  to  their  side  of  the 
lake.  They  went  across  on  their  skates  one 
night,  and  overturned  the  Young  Republic, 
which  Joe  had  hauled  out  on  the  beach  and 
housed  for  the  winter  ;  and  they  even  thought 
seriously  of  setting  fire  to  his  boat-house,  be- 
lieving that  the  blame  would  be  laid  upon  Matt 
Coyle,  who  was  known  to  be  trapping  some- 
where in  the  mountains.  Joe  knew  who  it  was 
that  insulted  Mars  and  shot  at  the  pigeons  and 


THE   HISTORIAN   ENDS   HIS   NARRATIVE.     291 

disturbed  his  sail-boat ;  but  when  he  saw  by 
the  marks  on  the  door  of  the  boat-house  that 
somebody  had  been  trying  to  pull  out  the  staple 
that  held  the  hasp,  he  told  his  chums  that  he 
had  wronged  Tom  and  his  cousins  by  his  sus- 
picions, and  that  the  squatter  was  the  culprit 
after  all.  Beyond  a  doubt  Matt  wanted  to  re- 
gain possession  of  the  canvas  canoe  ;  and  in 
order  to  save  his  property,  Joe  shouldered  it 
one  morning  and  took  it  up  to  his  room. 

The  attentive  reader,  if  I  am  so  fortunate  as 
to  have  one,  will  bear  in  mind  that  all  I  have 
thus  far  written  is  but  a  repetition  of  the  story 
the  canvas  canoe  told  me  on  that  bright  after- 
noon when  I  was  first  introduced  to  him  and  to 
the  other  merry  fellows — the  long  bows,  the 
snow-shoes  and  the  toboggan — who  found 
a  home  in  Joe  Wayring's  room.  In  concluding 
his  interesting  narrative  the  canoe  said : 

"  Now,  Fly-rod,  you  know  every  thing  of 
importance  that  has  happened  since  Tom  Big- 
den  and  his  cousins  first  stuck  their  quarrel- 
some noses  inside  Mount  Airy.  As  I  said  at 
the  start,  it  was  necessary  that  you  should  hear 
the  story,  or  else  you  would  be  at  a  loss  to 


292  JOE   WAYRING   AT  HOME. 

account  for  a  good  many  things  that  may  hap- 
pen to  you  sooner  or  later.  I  have  an  idea 
that  you  are  a  good  sort,  and  hope  we  shall  pass 
many  pleasant  hours  in  each  other's  company." 

I  thanked  the  canoe  for  his  kind  wishes  and 
for  the  story  he  had  taken  so  much  pains  to 
tell  me,  and  inquired  how  he  had  managed  to 
live  through  the  long  winter  that  had  just 
passed. 

"  Oh,  I  did  well  enough,"  was  his  reply. 
"  In  the  first  place,  the  long  bows  and  Iliad 
much  to  talk  about,  and  in  the  next,  Joe  often 
brings  Roy  and  Arthur  up  here  to  spend  an 
evening  ;  and  as  they  have  traveled  a  good 
deal,  they  are  never  at  a  loss  for  some  interest- 
ing topic  of  conversation.  More  than  that,  Joe 
and  his  uncle  went  off  hunting  last  December, 
and  when  they  returned,  they  brought  with 
them  those  conceited  things  over  there — the 
snow-shoes  and  toboggan — who  being  from 
another  country,  think  they  are  a  trilie  bet- 
ter than  any  body  else.  But,  after  all,  I  have 
found  them  to  be  very  companionable  fellows, 
and  if  you  can  only  get  them  started  (like  all 
Englishmen,  they  are  inclined  to  be  surly  at 


THE  HISTORIAN   ENDS   HIS   NARRATIVE. 

first),  they  can  tell  you  some  things  about  shoot- 
ing and  trapping  that  are  well  worth  listening 
to." 

' '  Do  you  know  what  the  programme  is  for 
the  summer  ?  "  Tasked,  being  some  what  anxious 
to  learn  what  I  had  to  look  forward  to. 
"  Where  are  we  going  and  what  are  we  going 
to  do?" 

"  Well,  seeing  that  this  is  April,  it  will  not 
be  summer  for  three  months  to  come,"  replied 
the  canoe.  "  But  you  need  not  expect  to 
remain  idle  any  longer  than  next  Saturday. 
You  and  I  will  probably  be  employed  in  mak- 
ing short  trips  about  the  village  until  school 
closes  for  the  long  vacation.  Immediately 
after  the  canoe  meet,  which  in  future  will  be 
held  on  the  3rd  of  July,  so  that  the  members 
of  the  club  can  have  the  whole  of  the  vacation 
to  themselves,  you  and  Joe  will  go  up  to  Indian 
Lake—" 

"But  Matt  Coyle  is  up  there,"  I  inter- 
rupted. 

u  Suppose  he  is  !  "  retorted  the  canvas  canoe. 
"•  Do  you  think  that  Joe  Wayring  is  going  to 
be  kept  away  from  his  favorite  fishing  grounds 


294  JOE   WAYRIXG  AT   HOME. 

just  because  that  outlaw  has  chosen  to  take  up 
his  abode  there  !  You  don't  know  Joe.  He'll 
go,  you  may  be  sure,  and  after  he  gets  there, 
he'll  give  you  a  chance  to  show  what  you  can 
do  with  a  five  pound  trout." 

"  Why  can't  you  go?"  I  inquired.  I  had 
already  learned  to  like  my  new  friend,  who  had 
shown  himself  to  be  so  good-natured  and  so 
ready  to  tell  me  any  thing  I  wanted  to  know, 
and  I  thought  I  would  rather  have  him  for 
company  than  any  body  else. 

"  It  is  possible  that  I  may  go,  but  I  haven't 
heard  any  thing  said  about  it.  I  should  think 
I  might  be  of  some  use  to  Joe  and  I  would  not 
be  at  all  in  his  way." 

"  But  what  if  that  squatter  should  steal  you 
again  ?  I  suppose  you  didn't  fare  very  well 
while  you  were  in  his  hands." 

"  Oh,  I  fared  well  enough,"  replied  the 
canoe,  who  seemed  to  have  a  happy  faculty 
of  accommodating  himself  to  circumstances. 
"  But  I  didn't  like  the  company  I  was  obliged 
to  keep,  I  tell  you.  Whenever  Matt  Coyle  or 
his  boys  took  me  out  on  the  water,  I  would 
have  been  only  too  glad  to  spill  them  out  if  I 


THE   HISTORIAN   ENDS   HIS   NARRATIVE.     295 

could  have  done  it.  I  felt  particularly  savage 
on  the  night  Jake  used  me  in  making  his  raid  on 
that  old  guide's  potato-patch  and  smoke  house. 
When  I  saw  the  skiff  coming  after  me,  wouldn't 
I  have  laughed  if  I  had  possessed  the  power  ? 
I  knew  that  Jake  was  going  to  run  me  on  to 
that  snag,  and  when  I  was  settling  to  the  bot- 
tom, I  told  myself  that  Joe  would  never  leave 
me  there.  I  wasn't  hurt  at  all.  I  was  easily 
mended  with  rosin  and  tallow  and  a  piece  of 
canvas,  and  am  just  as  good  as  I  ever  was  ; 
although  I  confess  that  I  look  like  a  boy  who 
has  been  in  a  fight  and  has  to  wear  a  patch  over 
his  eye." 

"How  did  the  squatter  make  the  journey 
from  his  shanty  to  the  creek  in  which  Joe 
found  you?" 

"  Well,  he  carried  me  on  his  back  from  the 
pond  to  the  river.  It  took  him  two  days  to 
do  it,  for  I  hindered  him  all  I  could  by  catch- 
ing hold  of  every  limb  and  bush  that  came 
within  my  reach.  When  we  got  to  the  river, 
Matt  loaded  me  to  the  water's  edge  with  his 
household  goods  (you  will  know  how  I  shrank 
from  contact  with  them  when  I  tell  you  that 


296  JOE  WAYTLINQ  AT  HOME. 

the  blankets  and  quilts  were  so  begrimed 
with  smoke  and  dirt  that  Mars  could  not  be 
hired  to  sleep  on  them),  and  then  one  of  the 
boys  got  in  and  paddled  me  down  the  stream 
while  the  squatter  and  the  rest  of  his  family 
stumbled  along  the  bank.  Matt  was  afraid 
to  make  his  camp  anywhere  near  Indian  Lake, 
because  he  knew  that  the  guides  would  be 
very  likely  to  burn  or  otherwise  destroy 
every  thing  he  had,  as  they  did  once  before  ; 
so  he  turned  up  the  creek,  and  hunted  around 
until  he  found  a  place  that  suited  him.  It 
was  in  a  secluded  glen,  about  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  from  the  creek.  He  set  his  boys  to  work 
to  build  a  lean-to,  which  would  afford  them 
some  sort  of  shelter  until  they  could  provide 
a  better  covering  for  their  heads,  and  started 
out  with  his  rifle  to  get  something  to  eat. 
During  his  rambles  he  found  a  smoke-house  and 
potato-patch  which  he  thought  could  be  easily 
robbed,  and  as  soon  as  he  came  home,  he  sent 
Jake  out  on  that  thieving  expedition  which 
resulted  disastrously  to  him,  for  he  lost  his 
plunder  and  me  into  the  .bargain.  I  assure 
you  I  was  glad  to  find  myself  among  friends 


THE   HISTORIAN   ENDS   HIS   NARRATIVE.     297 

once  more.  Why,  have  you  any  idea  what  that 
villain  meant  to  do  ?  He  was  going  to  make  a 
pirate  of  me.  He  intended,  first,  to  offer  him- 
self as  guide  for  the  hotels,  and  if  they 
wouldn't  take  him,  he  intended  to  follow  the 
guests  and  their  guides  along  the  water  courses, 
and  rob  every  camp  that  he  found  unprotected. 
That's  the  kind  of  fellow  Matt  Coyle  is.  He 
ought  to  be  abolished." 

*'  What  became  of  the  fishing-rods  he  stole 
at  the  time  he  ran  off  with  you  ?  " 

"  Well,  they  had  worse  treatment  than  I  did, 
because  they  were  not  as  useful  as  I  was.  They 
have  been  left  out  in  the  rain  and  abused  in  var- 
ious ways,  until  they  don't  look  much  as  they 
did  when  the  squatter  first  got  his  ugly  hands 
upon  them.  I  doubt  very  much  if  their  owners 
would  have  recognized  them  if  they  could  have 
seen  them  the  last  time  I  did." 

"  Will  our  trip  to  Indian  Lake  last  all  sum- 
mer?" I  asked. 

"Oh,  no  ;  only  about  two  weeks.  After  that, 
we  shall  be  packed  off  on  a  long  journey,  either 
East  or  West,  I  don't  know  which,  and  neither 
did  Joe  the  last  time  I  heard  him  say  any 


298  JOE   WAYRING   AT  HOME. 

thing  about  it.  You  see,  Uncle  Joe  Wayring 
owns  large  tracks  of  timber  land  in  Maine  and 
Michigan.  He  wants  to  see  them  both,  for  he 
has  learned  that  thieves  are  at  work  in  both 
places;  but  he  hasn't  yet  made  up  his  mind 
which  he  wants  to  see  the  more.  When  he 
does  he  will  tell  Joe,  and  then  we  shall  find  out 
where  we  are  going. ' ' 

There  were  a  good  many  other  questions  that 
I  wanted  to  ask  my  communicative  friend,  but 
before  I  could  speak  again  a  merry  whistle 
sounded  in  the  hall  below,  and  somebody 
ascended  the  stairs  three  at  a  time.  Then  I 
knew  that  my  master  had  finished  his  sail  on  the 
lake,  and  was  coming  up  to  his  room  to  get 
ready  for  supper.  He  threw  the  door  open 
with  a  bang,  school-boy  fashion,  and  walking 
straight  up  to  me  took  me  from  my  case  and 
gave  me  a  good  looking  over.  He  seemed  as 
delighted  as  a  youngster  with  his  first  pair  of 
red  top  boots  ;  but  I  was  somwhat  chagrined 
to  learn  that  he  did  not  have  a  very  exalted 
opinion  of  my  capabilities. 

"That's  a  very  fine  rod,  no  doubt;  but  I 
expect  to  break  him  into  a  dozen  pieces  before 


THE   HISTORIAN   ENDS   HIS   NARRATIVE.     299 

I  have  had  him  a  month.  A  two  pound 
trout  will  give  him  more  than  he  wants 
to  do." 

What  else  Joe  was  going  to  say  about  me  I 
never  knew ;  for  just  then  the  supper  bell  rang, 
and  he  made  all  haste  to  put  me  back  in  my 
case.  After  a  hasty  toilet  he  bolted  out  of  the 
room  with  the  same  noise  and  racket  he  made 
when  he  came  in,  and  I  was  at  liberty  to  con- 
tinue my  conversation  with  the  canvas  canoe. 
As  usual,  that  useful  and  talkative  individual 
spoke  first. 

"  What  is  your  opinion  of  a  boy  who  can 
deliberately  persecute  a  fellow  like  that  ?  " 
said  he. 

"  He  ought  to  receive  the  same  punishment 
you  want  meted  out  to  Matt  Coyle ;  he  ought 
to  be  abolished,"  I  replied.  "But  Joe  doesn't 
appear  to  think  much  of  me." 

"Don't  you  worry  about  that,"  said  the 
canoe,  encouragingly.  ' '  You  will  not  wonder 
at  it  when  you  have  made  the  acquaintance  of 
his  bait-rod — if  you  ever  do ;  I  mean  the  one 
that  was  stolen  from  him.  He's  a  big  heavy 
fellow,  and  strong  enough  to  jerk  a  four  pound 


300  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

black  bass  from  the  water  without  any  non- 
sense. You  can't  do  that,  and  Joe  isn't  cer. 
tain  that  he  can  handle  you.  He  doesn't  dis- 
trust you  any  more  than  he  distrusts  himself. 
There's  one  thing  I  forgot  to  tell  you,"  added 
the  canoe,  "and  that  is,  if  any  misfortune  befalls 
you,  you  can  lay  it  to  Tom  Bigden.  I  heard 
enough  during  my  short  captivity  to  satisfy 
me  that  he  wras  the  chap  who  put  it  into  Matt's 
head  to  steal  Joe's  property.  Matt  is  bad 
enough,  goodness  knows  ;  but  the  advice  Tom 
Bigden  gave  him  made  him  worse.  That  is  one 
of  the  secrets  of  which  I  spoke  at  the  beginning 
of  my  story,  and  it  troubles  me  all  the  time.  I 
am  sure  that  if  I  could  talk  to  Joe  about  five 
minutes,  I  should  feel  easier  ;  but  that's  some- 
thing I  can't  do." 

At  my  request  the  historian  then  went  on  to  tell 
of  other  interesting  and  exciting  incidents  in  Joe 
Wayring'slife,  but  as  they  have  no  bearing 
with  my  own  exploits  and  adventures  I  omit 
them  now,  although  they  may  appear  at 
some  future  period.  By  the  time  he  grew 
weary  of  talking  it  was  ten  o'  clock,  and  dark- 
ness had  settled  down  over  the  room  ;  but  just 


THE  HISTORIAN   ENDS   HIS   NARRATIVE.     301 

as  I  was  composing  myself  for  the  night,  the 
door  opened  and  Joe  Wayring  came  in.  Making 
good  his  boast,  that  if  folks  would  let  his 
property  alone,  he  could  find  any  thing  he 
wanted  on  the  darkest  of  nights  and  without 
the  aid  of  a  lamp,  Joe  caught  up  the  creel  with 
one  hand,  seized  me  with  the  other,  and  carrying 
us  both  down-stairs,  deposited  us  on  the  kitchen 
table  beside  something  that  was  covered  with  a 
snow-  white  cloth.  Then  he  busied  himself  fora 
few  minutes  about  the  stove,  getting  kindling 
and  light  wood  together  so  that  a  fire  could  be 
readily  started ;  and  after  I  had  watched  his 
movements  for  a  while,  I  made  up  my  mind  that  a 
campaign  of  some  sort  was  in  prospect.  When  he 
took  the  light  and  went  out  I  said  to  the  creel : 
"  Do  you  happen  to  know  what  day  this  is  ?  " 
"It's  Friday,"  he  replied.  "To-morrow 
will  be  Saturday,  and  I  should  judge  by  the 
looks  of  things,  that  we  are  going  to  make  our 
first  trip  after  trout." 

Do  you  know  by  experience  how  a  youngster 
feels  when  he  is  about  to  be  called  up  before  a 
hundred  or  more  critical  school  mates  to  recite 
his  little  piece  beginning— 


302  JOE   WAYEING  AT   HOME. 

"  You'd  scarce  expect  a  boy  like  me 
To  get  up  here  where  all  can  see, 
And  make  a  speech  as  well  as  those 
Who  wear  the  largest  kind  of  clothes." 

Do  you  know  how  he  feels  ?  Well,  that's  the 
way  I  felt. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

MY  FIRST  TRIP  TO    INDIAN  LAKE. 

THE  next  morning,  just  as  the  clock  was 
striking  the  hour  of  four,  I  was  aroused 
from  a  reverie  into  which  I  had  fallen  by  a  hasty 
step,  followed  by  a  blinding  glare  of  light,  and 
Joe  Wayring  came  hurrying  into  the  kitchen. 
He  didn'  t  look  much  as  he  did  the  last  time  I 
saw  him,  and  if  it  hadn't  been  for  his  curly  head 
and  blue  eyes,  I  don't  think  I  should  have  rec- 
ognized him.  But  he  was  a  nobby  looking 
fellow,  all  the  same,  dressed  as  he  was  in  a 
neat  suit  of  duck,  dyed  to  a  dead  grass  shade, 
a  light  helmet  with  a  peak  before  and  behind, 
and  leggings  and  gaiters  instead  of  boots.  Joe 
was  not  the  boy  to  make  himself  uncomforta- 
ble, or  to  go  about  in  a  ragged  coat  and  with 
his  hair  sticking  out  of  the  top  of  his  cap,  just 
because  he  intended  to  spend  the  day  in  the 


304  JOE   WAYKING  AT   HOME. 

woods  out  of  sight  of  every  body.  He  knew 
of  anglers  and  hunters  who  affected  that  style, 
and  they  could  follow  it,  if  they  wanted  to, 
but  he  wouldn't.  Leggings  and  gaiters  were 
easier  to  walk  in  than  heavy  boots,  and  whole 
clothes  looked  better  than  shabby  ones. 

Placing  the  lamp  on  the  table  Joe  began 
bustling  about  the  kitchen,  and  in  a  very  few 
minutes  the  fire  was  started  and  the  tea-kettle 
filled.  Then  he  threw  back  the  cloth  before 
spoken  of,  revealing  a  substantial  lunch,  a 
liberal  portion  of  which  he  proceeded  to  pack 
away  in  the  creel. 

About  the  time  the  coffee  was  ready,  the 
door  opened  again,  and  Uncle  Joe  came  in. 
He,  too,  was  dressed  for  the  woods,  and  curried 
a  rod  of  some  sort  in  one  hand  and  a  creel  in  the 
other.  The  latter  must  have  been  a  fine  look- 
ing article  in  his  day,  but  how  he  was  as 
weather-beaten  as  any  old  sailor.  And  that 
was  not  to  be  wondered  at,  for  he  had  traveled 
much,  and  had  seen  many  hardships.  He  had 
accompanied  his  master  from  one  end  of 
the  country  to  the  other.  He  had  held 
captive  for  him  many  a  nice  breakfast  of 


MY   FIRST  TRIP   TO   INDIAN   LAKE.          305 

grayling  captured  in  Michigan  waters,  and 
carried  his  dinner  while  he  was  fighting  with 
the  big  trout  in  Rangeley  Lakes.  He  went 
with  him  on  one  of  his  Western  tours,  and 
would  certainly  have  fallen  into  the  hands  of 
the  Utes  when  they  arose  in  rebellion  and 
massacred  all  the  whites  they  could  find,  had 
it  not  been  for  the  fact  that  he  was  slung  over 
his  master's  shoulder,  and  the  latter  was  in 
too  great  a  hurry  to  stop  and  throw  him  off. 
He  had  many  thrilling  recollections  of  the 
Indian  Lake  country,  for  he  had  been  capsized 
on  the  rapids  more  times  than  he  could  remem- 
ber. He  was  a  good  talker,  and  as  full  of 
stories  as  the  canvas  canoe. 

"Well,  sir,"  said  Uncle  Joe,  as  he  deposited 
his  rod  and  creel  on  the  table,  "  what  are  the 
prospects?" 

' '  Couldn'  t  be  better, ' '  replied  the  boy.  "  It' s 
cloudy,  and  there  is  every  sign  of  rain  before 
noon." 

"  I  hope  it  will  stay  cloudy,  but  I  can't  say 
that  I  want  to  see  it  rain,"  said  Uncle  Joe,  as 
he  drew  a  chair  up  to  the  table  and  took  the 
cup  of  coffee  his  nephew  poured  out  for  him. 


306  JOE  WAYKINO  AT  HOME. 

"The  bushes  around  the  old  spring  hole  are 
pretty  thick,  and  I  long  ago  ceased  to  see  any 
fun  in  getting  drenched  for  the  sake  of  catch- 
ing a  mess  of  half-pound  trout.  If  they  were 
salmon,  now,  the  case  would  be  different." 

Nevertheless  Uncle  Joe  seemed  to  be  in  just 
as  great  a  hurry  to  eat  his  breakfast  and  be  off 
as  his  nephew  was.  Ten  minutes  sufficed  to 
satisfy  their  appetites,  and  in  ten  minutes  more 
we  were  on  the  outskirts  of  the  village,  and 
moving  up  an  old  log  road  toward  the  spring 
hole,  where  I  was  to  make  my  first  attempt  to 
take  a  fish.  I  dreaded  the  ordeal,  for  I  did  not 
have  as  much  confidence  in  myself  as  I  would 
have  had  if  my  master  had  not  spoken  so 
slightingly  of  me. 

How  far  it  was  from  the  village  to  the  spring 
hole,  I  am  sure  I  don't  know.  It  seemed  like 
a  long  journey  to  me,  although  it  was  enlivened 
by  stories  of  travel  and  adventure  from  Uncle 
Joe,  in  which  I  became  deeply  interested. 
Presently  Joe,  who  was  leading  the  way, 
pushed  aside  the  bushes  in  front  of  him,  dis- 
closing to  view  a  small  body  of  water  fringed 
with  lily-pads  and  surrounded  on  all  sides  by 


MY   FIRST  TRIP   TO   INDIAN   LAKE.          307 

high  and  thickly  wooded  hills  ;  and  I  knew  in- 
stinctively that  we  had  reached  the  end  of  our 
tramp,  and  that  the  time  had  come  for  me  to 
show  what  I  could  do.  There  seemed  to  be 
abundant  opportunity  for  me  to  do  good  work 
if  I  was  capable  of  it.  While  I  was  being  taken 
out  of  my  case,  I  noticed  that  now  and  then 
there  was  a  slight  commotion  in  the  water,  just 
outside  the  lilies,  and  I  knew  it  was  occasioned 
by  trout  jumping  from  the  water,  even  before 
Joe  Wayring  said  so. 

"Just  look  at  them  !  "  he  exclaimed,  in  great 
excitement.  "They  are  having  a  high  old 
time  among  themselves.  I  wouldn't  take  a 
dollar  for  my  chance  of  going  home  with  a  full 
creel.  There!  Did  you  see  that  whopper  ?" 

"Put  on  a  white  miller  and  a  brown  hackle, 
and  give  me  your  rod  as  quick  as  you  can," 
answered  his  uncle.  "I  saw  him,  and  if  he 
comes  up  again  within  seventy  or  eighty  feet 
of  us,  I  will  make  an  effort  to  take  him." 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  can  throw  a 
fly  as  far  as  that?"  inquired  Joe. 

"That  depends  upon  the  rod.  I'd  like  to 
have  the  first  try  with  it,  if  you  have  no  objec- 


308  JOE   WAYKING   AT   HOME. 

tion,  for  I  want  to  see  whether  or  not  you've 
got  a  good  bargain." 

Of  course  Joe  had  no  objection.  As  soon  as 
I  was  ready  for  business  he  passed  me  over  to 
his  uncle,  and  when  I  felt  his  strong  fingers 
close  around  me,  I  knew  that  I  was  in  the  hands 
of  one  who  would  make  me  show  off  to  the  best 
possible  advantage. 

' '  There  he  is  again  !  Give  him  the  flies, 
quick  !"  cried  Joe,  suddenly. 

Uncle  Joe's  movements  were  characterized 
by  what  sportsmen  are  wont  to  call  "  deliber- 
ate quickness".  He  was  so  very  deliberate,  in 
fact,  that  his  nephew  began  to  show  unmis- 
takable signs  of  impatience  ;  but  still  he  did 
not  waste  a  single  second  of  valuable  time. 
Reeling  off  as  much  line  as  the  close  proximity 
of  the  bushes  behind  would  permit  him  to  use, 
Uncle  Joe  gave  me  a  smart  upward  and  back- 
ward fling  and  then  struck  down  toward  the 
water.  This  movement  caused  the  line  to  fly 
through  the  air  like  a  whip  lash,  only  it  grew 
in  length  all  the  while  ;  and  when  the  flies 
were  directly  over  the  swirl  the  trout  had  made 
when  he  went  down,  the  motion  of  the  reel  was 


MY   FIRST   TRIP   TO   INDIAN   LAKE.          309 

i 

stopped  by  a  slight  pressure  of  the  angler's 
thumb,  and  the  tempting  lures  settled  upon  the 
water  as  lightly  as  a  couple  of  feathers. 

"I  never  can  learn  to  do  that,"  said  Joe, 
despondingly.  ' '  It  requires  altogether  too 
much  skill  for  my  clumsy — Well,  sir,  you've 
got  him  as  sure  as  the  world." 

The  hook  was  fast  to  something,  that  was 
plain  ;  but  I  thought  at  first  that  Uncle  Joe 
had  caught  a  snag  or  a  lily-pad.  There  was  a 
jerk  that  made  me  wonder,  and  in  an  instant 
more  I  was  bent  almost  half  double  ;  but  with 
all  the  strain  that  was  brought  to  bear  upon 
me,  the  thing  at  the  other  end  of  the  line,  what- 
ever it  was,  did  not  give  an  inch.  On  the  con- 
trary, it  started  and  ran  off  toward  the  middle 
of  the  spring  hole  ;  and  then  I  began  to  realize 
that  I  was  doing  battle  with  a  trout  of  the 
largest  size.  Now  was  the  time  to  show  my 
master  that  he  had  been  much  mistaken  in  me. 

I  need  not  stop  to  go  into  the  particulars  of 
the  fight,  for  every  boy  who  has  caught  a  heavy 
trout  on  a  light  rod  will  know  just  what  hap- 
pened ;  and  besides,  to  be  frank  with  you,  I 
don' t  remember  much  about  it.  Neither  does 


310  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

Joe  Wayring,  who  was  so  highly  excited  that 
he  could  not  stand  still.  I  recollect  he  after- 
ward told  his  chums  that  the  fish  jumped  clear 
out  of  the  water  two  or  three  times,  and  then 
started  from  the  middle  of  the  spring  hole  and 
ran  toward  the  angler  at  the  top  of  his  speed, 
trying  to  loosen  the  line  so  that  the  hook 
would  drop  out  of  his  mouth ;  but  the  auto- 
matic reel  took  up  the  slack  as  fast  as  he  made 
it,  and  his  mad  rushes  about  the  spring  hole 
had  no  other  result  than  to  tire  him  out,  so  that 
he  could  offer  but  feeble  resistance  when  he  was 
reeled  in  to  the  bank.  The  moment  he  was 
brought  within  reach  Joe  slipped  a  landing  net 
under  him  and  lifted  him  out. 

"Two  pounds  and  three  ounces,"  he  almost 
shouted,  after  he  had  weighed  him  on  his 
pocket  scales.  "  Now,  Uncle  Joe,  what's  your 
opinion  of  that  rod  ?  " 

"A  fair  sized  fish  for  these  waters,"  said 
Uncle  Joe,  as  he  stepped  to  the  edge 
of  the  spring  hole  for  another  cast.  "As 
for  the  rod — it's  as  good  a  one  as  you  need 
wish  for.  If  you  will  take  care  of  him,  he  will 
last  as  long  as  you  will,  barring  accident." 


MY   FIRST  TRIP  TO   INDIAN   LAKE.          311 

I  will  not  dwell  upon  the  incidents  of  the 
day,  for  I  must  hasten  on  to  tell  you  what 
happened  to  me  during  my  first  visit  to  Indian 
Lake.  It  will  be  enough  to  say  that  Joe  and 
his  uncle  enjoyed  themselves,  as  they  always 
did  whenever  they  went  anywhere  together, 
and  that  my  master  after  an  hour  or  two  of 
assiduous  practice,  learned  to  make  short  casts 
with  tolerable  accuracy,  and  to  show  consider- 
able skill  in  handling  the  fish  he  hooked. 
When  the  two  went  home  a  little  before  dark 
Joe's  creel  was  not  as  full  as  his  uncle's,  but 
the  few  trout  he  captured  with  his  light 
tackle,  afforded  him  more  genuine  sport  than 
twice  the  number  of  bass  taken  on  a  heavy 
bait- rod. 

That  day  was  the  beginning  of  a  busy  season 
for  me.  Every  Saturday,  rain  or  shine,  found 
me  at  the  spring  hole  or  wandering  along  the 
banks  of  some  of  the  numerous  streams  that 
ran  into  Mirror  Lake.  I  caught  a  good  many 
fish,  soon  got  over  my  nervousness,  and  looked 
forward  to  the  long  summer  vacation  with  as 
much  impatience  as  Joe  himself.  It  came  at 
last,  being  ushered  in  by  a  canoe  meet  on  the 


312  JOE   WAYKING   AT    HOME. 

3d  of  July,  and  a  grand  parade  on  the  4th,  in 
which  the  Toxophilites  and  Scouts  both  took 
part.  There  was  a  good  deal  of  rivalry  between 
these  two  organizations — so  much,  indeed,  that 
the  usual  exhibition  drill  at  the  park  was 
given  by  the  military  company,  thus  putting 
it  out  of  the  power  of  either  club  to  crow  over 
the  other.  But  still  there  was  considerable 
crowing  done,  especially  by  Tom  Bigden  and  a 
few  envious  fellows  like  him. 

"Don't  you  remember  what  vociferous 
applause  the  Toxophilites  received  last  4th  ?  " 
said  he,  to  his  cousins. 

' '  Yes  ;  and  I  remember  how  mad  you  were 
about  it,  too,"  replied  Loren. 

"  I  know  it.  I  couldn't  bear  to  see  them 
throw  on  so  many  airs,  but  I  little  thought 
that  I  should  aid  in  making  them  take  back 
seats  at  their  next  parade.  I  have  yet  to  see 
any  one  who  will  say  that  the  Scouts  didn't  do 
just  as  line  marching  in  the  procession  as  the 
Toxophilites  did." 

Of  course  I  did  not  see  the  parade,  and  neither 
did  I  witness  the  sports  that  were  held  during 
the  canoe  meet,  for  I  was  shut  up  in  Joe's 


MY   FIRST   TRIP   TO   INDIAN   LAKE.          313 

room  so  far  from  a  window  that  I  could  not 
tell  what  was  going  on  out-doors.  But  I  heard 
the  music  of  the  band,  and  the  cheers  that  arose 
whenever  some  lucky  fellow  carried  off  a  prize, 
and  the  exciting  and  amusing  incidents  that 
happened  during  those  two  days  of  festivity, 
were  so  often  talked  of  in  my  hearing,  that  I 
was  pretty  well  posted  after  all.  I  was  glad  to 
learn  that  my  master  won  the  paddle  race  very 
easily,  and  that  he  pushed  Roy  and  Arthur  so 
closely  in  the  hurry-skurry  race  that  the  referee 
had  half  a  mind  to  order  another  contest.  But 
Joe  and  Arthur  said  that  Roy  was  ahead,  and 
as  the  other  boys  backed  them  up,  Roy  was 
awarded  the  prize.  There  was  no  attempt  at 
fouling  this  time.  Every  thing  was  conducted 
fairly,  as  it  always  had  been  previous  to  Tom 
Bigden's  arrival  in  the  village,  and  every  mem- 
ber of  the  club  won  or  lost  on  his  merits. 

The  parade  being  over,  there  was  nothing  to 
keep  Joe  and  his  two  chums  at  home,  and  on 
the  evening  of  the  4th  they  began  making  prep- 
arations for  their  annual  trip  to  Indian  Lake. 
Shortly  after  supper  Joe  Wayring  came  into 
the  room,  and  having  exchanged  his  uniform 


314  JOE    WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

for  a  suit  of  working  clothes,  he  shouldered  my 
friend,  the  canvas  canoe,  and  carried  him  down 
stairs.  Half  an  hour  later  he  came  back  after 
the  creel  and  me.  He  took  us  down  to  the 
boat-house  and  there  we  found  the  canoe, 
snugly  tucked  away  in  his  chest  like  a  tired 
boy  in  his  little  bed. 

"Hurrah  for  me!"  exclaimed  the  canoe, 
after  Joe  had  gone  out  locking  the  door  behind 
him.  "  I  am  going  to  Indian  Lake,  too.  Now, 
if  Joe  can  only  keep  clear  of  Matt  Coyle,  we'll 
see  some  fun  before  we  get  back.  You  think  you 
know  something  about  fishing  ;  but  wait  until 
you  get  hold  of  one  of  those  big  lake  trout,  and 
then  tell  me  what  you  think  about  it." 

That  was  just  what  I  wanted  to  do,  but  I 
didn'  t  say  so,  for  fear  that  when  the  time  came 
I  might  discover  that  I  was  not  quite  so  good  a 
rod  as  I  thought  I  was. 

We  were  so  very  impatient  to  be  off  that  the 
night  was  a  very  long  one  to  us  ;  but  at  the 
first  peep  of  day  we  heard  Joe's  step  as  he  came 
down  the  walk  toward  the  boat-house.  He 
placed  a  basket  of  provisions  on  the  wharf, 
mildly  scolded  Mars  for  making  such  a  fuss 


MY   FIRST  TRIP   TO   INDIAN   LAKE.          315 

over  the  coming  separation,  and  then  came  in 
after  us.  Arthur  Hastings,  Jim  and  the  skiff 
were  on  time,  as  they  always  were,  and  in  half 
an  hour  more  we  had  taken  Roy  Sheldon 
on  board  and  were  moving  gay ly  down  the  river. 
We  camped  for  the  night  at  the  old  perch  hole, 
where  the  skiff  had  ridden  out  that  furious 
storm  a  year  before,  and  the  boys  had  fish  for 
supper.  Joe  had  been  told  that  perch  would 
rise  to  a  red  ibis,  but  he  and  I  could  not  prove 
the  truth  of  the  assertion.  Although  Arthur 
and  Roy  pulled  out  the  fish  as  fast  as  they 
could  bait  their  hooks,  Joe  never  got  a  bite. 
The  reason  was,  the  water  was  too  deep.  His 
uncle  afterward  told  him  that  six  feet  is  about 
as  far  as  any  fish  can  be  relied  upon  to  rise  to  a 
fly  ;  and  sometimes  they  are  too  lazy  to  come 
from  that  depth. 

On  the  afternoon  on  the  fourth  day  we  left 
the  river  and  turned  into  a  little  creek,  whose 
current  was  so  swift  that  the  boys  were  obliged 
to  use  extra  exertion  in  order  to  make  headway 
against  it.  About  an  hour  after  the  sun  went 
down  we  came  to  anchor  in  the  mouth  of  a 
brook,  and  there  I  made  amends  for  my  failure 


316  JOE  WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

at  the  perch  hole.  I  captured  more  trout  than 
both  the  other  rods,  and  if  I  had  felt  so  inclined, 
could  have  returned  some  of  the  left-handed 
compliments  they  paid  me  when  it  was  found 
that  I  could  not  catch  a  perch  in  twenty  feet  of 
water ;  but  being  peaceably  disposed  I  said 
nothing.  While  the  tent  was  being  put  up,  a 
muffled  voice  came  from  the  chest  in  which 
the  canvas  canoe  was  packed  away.  The 
cover  being  shut  down,  I  had  to  listen  intently 
in  order  to  catch  what  he  said  to  me. 

"Didn't  I  hear  some  one  say  something 
about  trout  ?  "  asked  the  canoe. 

"I  think  it  very  likely,"  was  my  reply. 
"  There  are  lots  of  them  in  the  brook  ;  almost 
as  many  as  there  in  the  spring  hole  at  Mount 
Airy." 

"Then  I  know  where  we  are,"  said  my 
imprisoned  friend.  ' '  Did  you  see  an  ugly  look- 
ing snag  about  a  mile  below  ?  Well,  there's  one 
there,  and  it's  the  one  Jake  Coyle  ran  into  the 
night  I  was  sunk  in  the  creek.  The  fight  I 
told  you  about  took  place  right  here.  Have 
you  seen  or  heard  any  thing  of  the  squat- 
ter?" 


MY   FIEST  TEIP  TO   INDIAN   LAKE.          317 

"  No,  I  haven't ;  but  I  know  that  Joe  and 
his  friends  are  keeping  a  bright  lookout  for 
him." 

"I  am  glad  to  hear  it,  and  I  hope  they  will 
not  relax  their  vigilance  just  becauseMatt  keeps 
himself  out  of  sight.  His  shanty  is  over  there 
in  the  woods  on  the  right  hand  side  of  the 
creek.  I'll  bet  he  is  there  now,  and  that  he  has 
had  his  eye  on  the  skiff  ever  since  she  came  into 
this  part  of  the  country.  Mark  my  words : 
Joe  will  hear  from  him  before  he  sees  Mount 
Airy  again." 

"Oh,  I  hope  not,"  said  I. 

"So  do  I,"  answered  the  canoe.  "But  I 
became  well  enough  acquainted  with  Matt  and 
his  family  during  the  short  time  I  lived  with 
them,  to  know  that  they  do  not  intend  to  leave 
here  unless  they  are  driven  away,  as  they  were 
last  year  when  they  came  to  our  village.  Why, 
this  is  the  best  place  in  the  world  for  a  man  who 
is  too  lazy  to  work,  and  who  is  not  above  taking 
things  without  leave.  Game  and  fish  are 
abundant.  All  the  guides  cultivate  little 
patches  of  ground,  and  keep  a  few  pigs  and 
chickens,  and  as  they  are  away  from  home  a 


318  JOE  WAYKING  AT  HOME. 

good  part  of  the  time,  their  property  is  left 
to  the  care  of  their  wives  and  children.  They 
can't  stand  guard  day  and  night,  and  conse- 
quently it  is  no  trouble  at  all  for  Matt  to  steal 
all  he  wants.  He  has  a  fine  hiding-place  now, 
and  as  he  and  his  family  make  it  a  point  to 
travel  different  routes  every  time  they  go  away 
from  the  shanty  or  return  to  it,  they  don't 
leave  much  of  a  trail  for  the  guides  to  follow,  if 
they  should  make  up  their  minds  to  hunt  them 
up.  Another  thing,"  added  the  canoe,  in  a 
tone  of  anxiety,  ; '  Matt  hates  Joe  and  his  chums 
for  two  reasons :  First,  because  their  fathers 
turned  him  out  of  Mount  Airy,  and  second, 
because  they  gave  him  such  a  pelting  with 
potatoes  the  last  time  they  were  up  here.  If  he 
is  here,  he  will  try  to  have  revenge  for  that  ; 
now  you  see  if  he  doesn't." 

The  canvas  canoe  spoke  confidently,  and  his 
words  occasioned  me  no  little  uneasiness ;  but 
I  was  greatly  relieved  to  learn  from  the  conver- 
sation, to  which  I  listened  while  the  boys  were 
eating  supper,  that  they  were  fully  alive  to  the 
dangers  of  the  situation,  and  that  they  did  not 
mean  to  let  the  squatter  take  them  off  their 


MY   FIRST   TEIP  TO   INDIAN   LAKE.          319 

guard.  They  were  happy  in  the  belief  that 
Matt  could  not  attack  them,  except  at  long 
range,  because  he  had  no  boat  to  bring  him 
alongside  the  skiff.  It  never  occurred  to  them 
that  he  had  had  plenty  of  time  to  steal  or  build 
one,  and  that  was  where  they  made  their  mis- 
take. 

Up  to  this  time  we  had  had  pleasant  weather ; 
but  this  particular  night  was  a  rainy  one.  The 
big  drops  began  coming  down  just  after  the 
tent  was  put  up.  Then  I  realized  for  the  first 
time  what  a  comfortable  home  it  was  that  the 
boys  had  provided  for  themselves.  The  canvas 
canoe  and  I  lay  on  the  forward  locker,  with 
the  two  bait-rods,  the  dip-net  and  the  cocker 
spaniel  to  keep  us  company.  On  the  bottom 
of  the  boat  in  the  cock-pit  sat  the  three  chums, 
on  either  side  of  a  table  which  they  had  made 
by  pushing  the  movable  thwarts  close  together. 
On  the  table,  which  was  covered  with  a  white 
napkin,  was  an  array  of  dishes,  plates  and 
cups,  all  of  tin,  which  were  filled  to  over-flow- 
ing with  ham  sandwiches,  bread  and  butter, 
cake,  ripe  fruit  of  various  kinds  and  trout, 
done  to  a  turn.  On  the  stern  locker  stood  the 


320  JOE   WAY  RING   AT   HOME. 

little  stove  over  which  Arthur  had  cooked  the 
fish  and  made  the  tea,  and  above  it  hung  the 
jack-lamp  that  was  kept  burning  all  night.  If 
any  thing  happened— if  the  wind  arose  and  the 
anchor  dragged,  or  prowlers  of  any  sort  came 
about — the  boys  wanted  a  light  to  work  by. 
Over  all  was  the  tent,  with  the  rain  coming 
gently  down  on  the  top  of  it.  One  side  curtain 
was  rolled  up  to  admit  the  air,  but  the  other 
was  buttoned  securely  to  the  gunwale.  Joe 
wasn'  t  going  to  have  the  squatter  slip  up  and 
send  a  club  into  the  cock-pit  before  he  knew  it. 
Taken  altogether  it  was  a  cozy,  home-like 
scene,  and  I  no  longer  wondered  why  it  was 
that  Joe  and  his  friends  looked  forward  to  the 
summer  vacation  with  such  lively  anticipations 
of  pleasure. 

The  boys  slept  soundly  that  night,  lulled  by 
the  pattering  of  the  rain  on  the  roof  over  their 
heads,  but  the  sun  did  not  find  them  in  bed.  I 
caught  more  than  my  share  of  the  trout  they 
ate  for  breakfast,  and  that  afternoon  was  given 
an  opportunity  to  try  my  skill  on  larger  game, 
to  wit,  a  four  pound  black  bass.  I  may  add, 
too,  that  I  got  my  first  ducking,  and  witnessed 


MY  FIRST  TRIP   TO   INDIAN   LAKE.          321 

the  liveliest  kind  of  a  foot  race.  But  I  can't 
say  that  I  enjoyed  it ;  there  was  too  much  de- 
pending on  it. 

' '  Do  you  remember  the  last  time  we  ate 
breakfast  here  \  "  said  Joe,  as  he  drew  up  the 
anchor  while  his  companions  shipped  the  oars 
and  pulled  up  the  creek  toward  the  pond.  "  If 
my  memory  serves  me,  Matt  Coyle  made  the 
mouth  of  this  brook  uncomfortably  warm  for 
us  for  a  few  minutes.  What  would  we  have 
done  if  Roy  hadn't  been  smart  enough  to  keep 
some  of  the  potatoes  out  of  that  bag  ?  I  wonder 
where  the  old  chap  is  now  ? " 

' '  Probably  he  is  a  hundred  miles  away, ' '  an- 
swered Arthur.  "  You  don't  suppose  that  the 
people  who  live  around  the  lake  are  going  to 
let  him  stay  here  and  steal  them  out  of  house 
and  home,  do  you  ? " 

"  I  am  of  the  opinion  that  he  and  his  worth 
less  family  were  driven  away  from  here  long 
ago,"  said  Roy.  "But  still  I  don't  be- 
lieve in  trusting  any  thing  to  luck.  We  needn't 
go  ashore  unless  we  want  to,  and  Matt  can't 
bother  us  while  we  are  lying  at  anchor.  He's 
got  no  boat,  and  he  isn't  foolish  enough  to 


322  JOE  WAY  RING   AT   HOME. 

swim  off  to  us,  for  we  gave  him  a  lesson  the 
last  time  we  were  here  that  he  will  remember 
as  long  as  he  lives." 

We  left  the  mouth  of  the  brook  at  an  early 
hour,  and  about  four  in  the  afternoon  entered 
the  pond,  where  I  heard  Joe  say  we  would 
remain  until  the  bread  and  bacon  gave  out, 
when  we  would  go  over  to  Indian  Lake  and  lay 
in  a  fresh  supply.  Now  Joe  was  sorry  that  he 
had  left  his  bait-rod  behind.  The  pond  was 
noted  for  the  number  and  fighting  qualities  of 
its  bass,  and  Joe  had  nothing  to  catch  them 
with ;  at  least  that  was  what  he  told  his  friends, 
adding  that  he  was  afraid  to  trust  so  heavy 
work  to  me. 

"  You'd  better  be  afraid,"  assented  Roy. 
"If  you  don't  want  that  fine  rod  of  yours 
smashed  into  a  thousand  pieces,  you  had  better 
not  try  to  catch  a  bass  with  it.  But  I'll  tell  you 
what  you  might  do,  if  you  don' t  care  to  sit  idly 
here  while  Art.  and  I  catch  all  the  fish  and  see 
all  the  fun.  You  might  go  up  to  the  little 
perch  hole  and  throw  a  ily  there.  Perhaps  you 
will  find  the  perch  in  the  pond  more  accommo- 
dating than  they  were  back  there  in  the  river." 


MY   FIRST  TRIP   TO   INDIAN   LAKE.          323 

"  How  about  our  esteemed  friend,  the  squat- 
ter \ "  said  Arthur. 

"Oh,  he  can't  trouble  me,"  answered  Joe, 
who  was  already  preparing  to  act  upon  Roy's 
suggestion.  "His  shanty  is  away  off  there 
somewhere,  while  the  perch  hole  lies  a  mile  or 
more  in  the  opposite  direction.  There  is  a  wide 
and  deep  river  between  the  two,  and  how  is 
Matt  going  to  cross  it  without  a  boat  ?  I  am  of 
Hoy's  opinion  that  he  was  driven  away  from 
here  long  ago." 

While  Joe  was  talking  in  this  way  he  had 
taken  the  canvas  canoe  from  his  chest,  and  now 
under  his  skillful  hands  my  old  friend  was  fast 
assuming  his  usual  symmetrical  proportions. 
In  less  than  ten  minutes  he  was  floating  grace- 
fully alongside  the  skiff. 

"Come  on,  Fly-rod,"  said  he,  "and  I  will 
show  you  what  a  canvas  canoe  can  do  when  he 
is  managed  by  some  one  who  understands  his 
business.  You  never  took  a  ride  with  me,  did 
you?" 

No,  I  never  had,  and  if  the  truth  must  be 
told,  I  never  wanted  to  take  a  second  ride  with 
him.  He  may  have  been  "the  boss  boat"  on 


324  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

the  rapids,  as  he  often  boasted,  but  he  was  a 
very  unfortunate  craft  all  the  same,  and  before 
the  day  was  over  I  had  reason  to  believe  that 
Joe  would  have  seen  more  sport  during  his  two 
weeks'  outing  if  he  had  left  the  canoe  safe  in 
his  room  at  Mount  Airy.  I  came  back  to  the 
skiff,  but  he  didn't. 


CHAPTER  XYI. 

AN   EXPLOIT   AND   A  SURPRISE. 

AS  I  could  not  comply  with  my  friend's 
invitation  to  "come  on",  I  was  obliged 
to  wait  until  Joe  had  exchanged  his  heavy 
boots  for  the  buckskin  moccasins  he  always 
wore  whenever  he  went  anywhere  with  the 
canoe.  This  being  done,  we  pushed  away  from 
the  skiff,  and  moved  leisurely  up  the  pond 
toward  the  perch  hole,  Joe  whistling  merrily 
as  he  plied  the  paddle.  I  do  not  think  he  was 
quite  so  light-hearted  when  he  came  back. 

Half  an  hour's  paddling  sufficed  to  bring  us 
to  our  destination.  If  I  hadn't  heard  Joe  say 
that  the  perch  hole  was  located  in  the  mouth 
of  a  creek,  I  should  not  have  known  it,  for  it 
looked  to  me  more  like  an  arm  of  the  pond 
which  set  back  into  the  land.  When  I  was 
taken  from  my  case,  after  the  anchor  had  been 
dropped  overboard,  I  took  note  of  the  fact  that 


326  JOE  WAYRING   AT  HOME. 

one  could  not  see  more  than  twenty  or  thirty 
feet  up  the  creek,  a  high  wooded  point  limiting 
the  range  of  vision  in  that  direction.  I  didn't 
know  at  the  time  why  I  observed  this,  but  I 
thought  of  it  afterward. 

Joe  made  his  first  cast  with  a  scarlet  ibis, 
and  the  result  was  surprising  to  both  of  us. 
The  fish  that  took  the  lure  did  not  give  much 
of  a  bite — I  have  known  a  half-pound  trout  to 
seize  the  bait  with  more  vim  than  he  did — but 
when  Joe  fastened  the  hook  with  a  scientific 
twist  of  his  wrist,  I  couldn't  have  doubled  up 
quicker  if  lie  had  caught  a  log. 

"Scotland's  a  burning!  what's  that?" 
exclaimed  Joe,  speaking  so  rapidly  that  the 
words  seemed  to  come  out  all  at  once.  "I 
declare,  it's  a  bass,"  he  added  a  moment  later, 
as  the  green  and  bronze  side  of  the  beautiful 
captive  could  be  seen  for  an  instant  just  under 
the  surface  of  the  water.  "I  wish  he  was  at 
the  bottom  of  the  pond,  for  he'll  break  my  rod 
and  I'll  have  no  more  fishing  this  trip." 

But  Joe  did  not  give  up  because  he  thought 
lie  was  going  to  be  worsted  in  the  fight.  He 
brought  into  play  all  the  skill  of  which  he  was 


AN   EXPLOIT  AND   A   SURPRISE.  327 

master,  and  after  an  exciting  struggle  of  fully 
half  an  hour's  duration,  caught  up  the  landing 
net  and  hauled  into  the  canoe  the  largest 
tiling  in  the  shape  of  a  fish  I  had  seen  up  to 
that  time.  He  was  killed  at  once,  the  pocket 
scales  were  brought  into  use,  and  the  weight 
of  the  "catch"  was  written  down  in  Joe's 
note-book. 

"  Whew  ?  "  panted  the  boy,  pulling  out  his 
handkerchief  and  wiping  the  big  drops  of  per- 
spiration from  his  forehead.  "  If  that  wasn't 
a  tough  battle  I  wouldn't  say  so.  I  never  sup- 
posed that  little  rod  could  cateh  a  fish  like 
this.  Hello,  here  !  It's  getting  dark  already. 
I  know  the  fellows  will  laugh  at  me  for  coming 
back  with  a  single  fish,  but  I  don't  believe 
they  will  be  able  to  show  one  that  will  weigh 
more." 

Joe  jumped  to  his  feet  as  he  spoke,  and 
made  all  haste  to  put  me  away  in  my  case.  He 
stood  with  his  face  to  the  pond  while  he  worked, 
and  consequently  he  did  not  see  what  I  did. 
My  attention  was  first  called  to  it  by  an 
exclamation  from  the  canvas  canoe  who  said 
in  a  suppressed  and  excited  whisper  : 


328  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

"  Upon  my  word,  there's  that  everlasting 
MattCoyle  again.  He'll  gobble  the  whole  of 
us  this  time." 

I  looked  over  Joe's  shoulder,  and  there  in 
the  bight  of  the  bend,  with  its  ugly  nose  just 
sticking  around  the  high  wooded  point  of  which 
I  have  spoken,  was  a  clumsy  scow  built  of 
rough  boards  that  had  doubtless  been  stolen 
from  some  saw-mill.  In  the  scow  sat  Matt 
Coyle  and  his  two  boys.  I  had  heard  them 
described  so  often  that  I  should  have  recognized 
them  at  once,  even  if  the  canoe  had  not  told 
me  who  they  were.  They  held  their  paddles 
poised  in  the  air,  and  Matt  who  sat  in  the  bow, 
having  raised  his  hand  to  attract  the  attention 
of  his  boys,  was  now  pointing  silently  toward 
my  master,  and  going  through  a  series  of 
contortions  with  his  head  and  eyes  that  must 
have  had  a  volume  of  meaning  in  them.  At 
any  rate  Jake  and  Sam  understood  them,  for 
they  dipped  their  paddles  into  the  water,  and 
the  scow  moved  around  the  point  and  turned 
directly  toward  us,  while  the  squatter  prepared 
himself  for  business  by  taking  off  his  hat  and 
pushing  back  his  sleeves.  I  trembled  all  over 


AN   EXPLOIT   AND  A   SURPRISE.  329 

with  excitement  and  alarm,  and  so  did  the 
canoe. 

"Oh,  why  don't  Joe  turn  around  ?"  cried 
the  latter.  "Matt  intends  to  take  him  by 
surprise,  and  he'll  be  alongside  in  half  a  minute 
more." 

Just  then  one  of  the  boys  allowed  his  paddle 
to  rub  against  the  side  of  the  scow.  The  noise 
he  made  was  very  slight,  but  it  was  loud  enough 
to  attract  the  attention  of  Joe  Wayring,  who 
faced  about  to  find  his  enemies  within  less 
than  twenty  feet  of  him.  He  was  so  astonished 
to  see  them  there,  that  for  a  few  seconds  he 
could  neither  move  nor  speak.  He  stood  as 
motionless  and  silent  as  a  wooden  boy  ;  while 
Matt,  seeing  that  he  was  discovered,  snatched 
up  his  paddle  and  raised  a  yell  of  triumph. 

"  Now  I  reckon  I'll  have  my  boat  back  an' 
you  into  the  bargain,"  he  shouted,  swinging 
his  paddle  around  his  head  and  then  shaking 
it  savagely  at  Joe.  "When  I  get  my  hands 
onto  you,  the  way  I'll  wear  the  hickories  out 
on  your  back  will  extonish  you  wuss  nor  any 
thing  you  ever  see." 

"  An'  won't  I  punch  your  head  though,  to 


330  JOE   WAYRING   AT  HOME. 

pay  you  fur  hittin'  me  with  that  there  tater 
up  there  in  the  creek  last  summer  ?  "  chimed 
in  Jake.  "  I  guess  yes." 

These  threatening  words  called  Joe  to  his 
senses.  He  knew  that  he  would  not  have  time 
to  pull  up  the  anchor  and  escape  in  his  canoe, 
for  he  had  paid  out  a  good  deal  of  rope  in  order 
to  place  himself  in  the  best  possible  position 
for  casting,  and  before  he  could  haul  it  in,  his 
enemies  would  be  upon  him.  There  was  but 
one  way  to  elude  them,  and  that  was  to  take 
to  the  water  and  to  trust  to  his  powers  as  a 
swimmer.  It  looked  like  a  slim  chance,  but 
the  odds  of  three  against  one  were  too  heavy  to 
be  successfully  resisted,  and  what  else  could  he 
do  ?  As  quick  as  a  flash  he  turned  again,  and 
without  releasing  his  hold  upon  me,  took  a 
header  from  the  stern  of  the  canoe. 

"  So  that  there's  your  game,  is  it  ?  "  yelled 
the  squatter.  "Wai,  it  suits  us,  I  reckon. 
Never  mind  the  boat,  Jakey.  She's  fast 
anchored,  and  will  stay  there  till  we  want  her. 
Take  after  the  'ristocrat  whose  dad  won't  let 
honest  folks  live  onto  his  land  less'n  they've 
got  a  pocketful  of  money  to  pay  him  fur  it. 


AN   EXPLOIT  AND   A   SURPRISE.  331 

Jest  let  me  get  a  good  whack  at  him  with  my 
paddle  an'  he'll  stop,  I  bet  you.  Hold  on, 
there,  'cause  it'll  be  wuss  fur  you  if  you  don't." 
In  obedience  to  Matt's  instructions  the  scow 
was  turned  toward  the  swimmer  ;  but  although 
Jake  and  Sam  exerted  themselves  to  the 
utmost,  they  could  not  cut  him  off  from  the 
shore.  Joe  made  astonishing  headway.  There 
were  but  few  boys,  or  men  either,  in  Mount 
Airy  who  could  swim  as  fast  as  he  could,  and 
he  afterward  said  that  he  never  made  better 
time  than  he  did  when  he  was  trying  to  get 
away  from  Matt  and  his  boys.  He  was  afraid 
of  the  lily-pads  which  lined  the  banks  of  the 
creek  on  both  sides,  so  he  swam  down  the 
stream  until  he  was  clear  of  them  before  he 
attempted  to  make  a  landing;  but  Matt,  believ- 
ing that  he  could  do  better  on  shore,  dropped 
his  own  paddle  into  the  water,  turned  into  the 
lilies  and  tried  to  force  the  scow  through  them. 
That  was  a  lucky  thing  for  Joe  Wayring.  The 
strong  stems  of  the  lilies  were  entwined  about 
one  another  in  all  sorts  of  ways,  and  the  squat- 
ter stuck  fast  in  them  before  he  had  made  half 
a  dozen  strokes. 


332  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

"Back  out!  Back  out!"  shouted  Matt, 
who  was  quickly  made  aware  that  he  had  com- 
mitted a  blunder.  "Be  in  a  hurry,  or  he'll 
get  sich  a  start  onus  that  we  can't  never  ketch 
him.  Hold  up,  there!  "  he  went  on,  jumping 
to  his  feet  and  swinging  his  paddle  around  his 
head  as  if  he  were  on  the  point  of  launching 
it  at  the  object  of  his  wrath.  "Come 
back,  or  it'll  be  wuss  fur  you.  You  hear  me,  I 
reckon." 

In  the  meantime  Joe  made  good  his  landing, 
and  looked  over  his  shoulder  to  see  the  heavy 
paddle  coming  toward  him,  end  over  end.  It 
struck  the  ground  near  him,  and  was  immedi- 
ately sent  back  where  it  came  from  with  all 
the  force  that  the  boy' s  sinewy  arm  could  give 
it.  Flying  wide  of  the  mark  for  which  it  was 
intended,  the  broad  blade  hit  Jake  fairly  in  the 
face,  giving  him  such  a  splitting  headache  that 
he  could  not  take  part  in  the  pursuit  that  fol- 
lowed. This  was  another  lucky  thing  for  Joe. 
Jake  was  the  best  runner  in  the  squatter's 
family,  and  although  there  is  not  the  slightest 
doubt  that  he  would  have  been  soundly  thrashed 
if  he  had  succeeded  in  overtaking  Joe,  he 


AN   EXPLOIT   AND   A   SURPRISE.  333 

might  have  been  able  to  detain  him  until  his 
father  and  brother  could  come  to  his  assistance, 
and  then  Joe  would  have  had  more  on  his 
hands  than  he  could  attend  to. 

"That's  another  thing  we've  got  to  pay  you 
fur  when  we  get  our  hands  on  you,"  yelled 
Matt,  who  was  almost  beside  himself.  "  Work 
lively  in  backin'  out,  or  he'll  have  a  mile  the 
start  of  us  before  we  tech  the  shore." 

Jake,  who  had  dropped  his  paddle  and  sat 
holding  his  chin  in  his  hands,  paid  no  attention 
to  the  order ;  but  Matt  and  Sam  worked  to 
such  good  purpose  that  they  finally  succeeded 
in  backing  the  scow  out  of  the  lilies  into  clear 
water.  When  they  reached  the  bank,  Joe 
Wayring  was  out  of  sight  ;  but  they  knew 
which  way  he  had  gone,  and  at  once  set  out  in 
pursuit  ;  while  Jake  stayed  in  the  scow  and 
howled  dismally. 

Joe  ran  like  a  deer,  and  made  surprising  prog- 
ress in  spite  of  the  logs  and  bushes  that 
obstructed  his  way.  He  was  very  quiet  in  his 
movements,  but  Matt  and  his  boy  made  so 
much  noise  that  it  was  an  easy  matter  to  keep 
track  of  them  and  tell  just  how  far  they  were 


334  JOE  WAYRING  AT   HOME. 

behind.  At  last  the  squatter,  seeing  that  he 
was  not  going  to  capture  my  master  by  follow- 
ing him  on  foot,  thought  it  best  to  change  his 
tactics. 

"  Sam,"  he  shouted,  in  stentorian  tones, 
"go  back  to  the  creek,  and  you  an'  Jakey  take 
the  canoe  an'  paddle  down  the  pond  so's  to 
cut  him  off  when  he  tries  to  swim  off  to  the 
skiff.  You  understand  what  I  say  to  you,  I 
reckon." 

Joe  understood  it,  whether  Sam  did  or  not 
and  it  put  new  speed  into  him.  He  ran  so 
swiftly  that  he  very  soon  left  his  single  pursuer 
out  of  hearing,  but  he  exhausted  himself  in  the 
effort,  and  when  he  dashed  out  of  the  bushes 
and  stopped  on  the  bank  in  plain  sight  of  the 
skiff,  he  was  so  nearly  out  of  breath  that  he 
could  not  raise  a  shout  to  draw  the  attention 
of  his  chums,  who  were  hard  at  work 
putting  up  the  tent.  But  Jim  saw  him, 
and  announced  the  fact  by  a  joyful  bark, 
followed  by  a  vigorous  wagging  of  his  tail. 
Arthur  and  Roy  looked  toward  the  bank,  and 
there  stood  Joe,  swinging  his  arms  wildly  about 
his  head.  When  he  saw  that  he  had  attracted 


AN   EXPLOIT  AKD   A   SURPRISE.  335 

their  notice,  he  pointed  to  the  woods,  and  then 
up  the  pond  toward  the  canvas  canoe  which 
was  coming  down  with  all  the  speed  that  Jake 
and  Sam  could  give  it.  The  boys  in  the  skiff 
saw  and  understood.  The  anchor  came  up 
quicker  than  it  ever  did  before,  the  oars  were 
shipped,  and  the  skiff  came  toward  the  bank 
with  a  heavy  bone  in  her  teeth.  By  this  time 
Matt  Coyle  arrived  within  hearing  again,  and 
Joe,  fearing  that  he  might  make  his  appearance 
before  his  friends  could  rescue  him,  stepped 
into  the  water  and  struck  out  to  meet  the  skiff. 
Jake  and  Sam  yelled  savagely  at  him,  and  re- 
doubled their  efforts  to  place  themselves  be- 
tween him  and  his  friends  ;  but  they  might  as 
well  have  saved  their  breath  and  strength.  The 
skiff  came  up  rapidly,  and  Joe  knew  that  he 
was  saved.  Suddenly  a  bright  idea  suggested 
itself  to  him — one  that  would  have  enabled 
him  to  turn  the  tables  upon  the  squatter  very 
neatly,  if  his  friends  had  only  been  prompt  to 
act  upon  it.  Raising  himself  as  far  out  of  the 
water  as  he  could,  he  called  out : 

"  Boys,  never  mind  me.     I've  got  my  second 
wind  now,  and  can  swim  for  an  hour.     Go  up 


336  JOE   WAYKING   AT   HOME. 

there  and  capture  my  canoe,  or  else  run  over 
her  and  send  her  to  the  bottom.  Don't  let 
those  villains  take  her  away  from  me  again." 

"All  right,"  replied  Roy,  still  giving  away 
strong  on  his  oar.  ' '  We'  11  get  your  canoe  back 
for  you,  but  we  will  take  care  of  you  first." 

"  No,  no  !  "  insisted  Joe.  "  Capture  or  sink 
the  canoe  first,  and  attend  to  me  afterward.  I 
am  all  right,  I  tell  you.  I  can  easily  keep 
afloat  until  you  come  back." 

"Why,  boy,  you  haven't  got  a  breath  to 
spare,"  said  Arthur.  "  I  know  it  by  the  way 
you  talk.  Come  in  out  of  the  wet." 

"You  held  fast  to  your  fly-rod  through  it 
all,  didn't  you  ?  "  said  Roy,  as  he  took  me  from 
Joe's  hand. 

' k  Yes.  I  didn'  t  know  whether  or  not  I  could 
outrun  them,  and  I  wanted  something  to  defend 
myself  with  in  case  they  came  up  with  me." 

When  Joe  tried  to  climb  into  the  skiff,  he 
found  that  he  was  by  no  means  in  as  good  con- 
dition as  he  thought  he  was.  He  could  scarce- 
ly help  himself  at  all,  and  his  chums  were  ob- 
liged to  pull  him  in  by  main  strength.  The 
moment  they  let  go  of  him  he  sank  down 


AN   EXPLOIT   AND    A   SURPRISE.  337 

against  the  stern  locker  and  panted  loudly ; 
but  he  was  as  full  of  determination  as  ever. 

"Now  go  up  and  sink  the  canoe,"  he  almost 
gasped. 

But  a  single  glance  was  enough  to  show  Arthur 
and  Roy  that  it  was  too  late  to  do  any  thing  with 
the  canoe.  Jake  and  his  brother  heard  the 
order  that  Joe  shouted  at  his  friends  while  he 
was  in  the  water,  and  made  all  haste  to  put 
themselves  out  of  harm's  way.  When  Joe  was 
hauled  into  the  skiff  they  were  so  close  to  the 
shore  that  all  attempts  to  intercept  them  would 
have  been  unavailing. 

"It's  no  use,  Joe,"  said  Arthur.  "They're 
too  far  off,  and  there's  Matt  Coyle  standing  on 
the  bank." 

' '  But  for  Joe' s  sake  we  will  see  what  we  can 
do,"  exclaimed  Roy. 

As  he  spoke,  he  opened  the  forward  locker 
and  took  from  it  a  stout  paper  bag.  When  he 
first  put  it  there,  Arthur  and  Joe  supposed 
that  it  contained  lemons  ;  but  when  Roy  opened 
it,  they  saw  that  it  was  filled  with'  potatoes. 

' '  They  helped  us  out  of  a  scrape  once,  and 
why  shouldn't  they  do  so  again?"  said  Roy. 


338  JOE  WAYRING  AT  HOME. 

"  My  plan  is  to  pull  into  shore,  drive  Matt  and 
his  boys  into  the  bushes,  clap  onto  the  canoe 
with  the  boat-hook  and  tow  her  out  into  the 
pond." 

Arthur  declared  that  that  was  the  way  to  do 
it.  but  subsequent  events  proved  that  it  wasn't. 
They  laid  hold  of  their  oars  again,  but  before 
the  skiff  had  gone  far  toward  the  shore,  Joe 
Wayring,  who  had  by  this  time  recovered  his 
power  of  speech  and  motion,  announced  that 
Roy's  plan  wouldn't  work  at  all,  and  that  it 
was  useless  to  make  any  effort  to  sink  or  cap- 
ture the  canoe.  And  the  rowers  found  it  so 
when  they  faced  about  and  looked  toward  the 
shore. 

The  squatter  and  his  boys  had  dragged 
the  canoe  from  the  water,  and  were  now  carry- 
ing her  back  into  the  bushes  where  they  knew 
the  boys  would  not  dare  go  after  it. 

Matt  had  not  yet  forgotten  the  tactics  they 
used  when  he  and  his  boys  tried  to  club  them 
out  of  their  boat  the  year  before.  He  was  very 
much  afraid  of  Roy,  and  when  the  latter 
ceased  rowing  and  got  upon  his  feet  to  see 
what  had  been  done  with  the  canoe,  Matt  and 


AN   EXPLOIT   AND   A   SURPRISE.  339 

his  allies  ran  into  the  woods  like  so  many 
frightened  turkeys. 

"I'm  onto  your  little  game,"  said  the  squat- 
ter in  a  triumphant  tone,  as  he  looked  out 
from  behind  the  tree  that  sheltered  him. 
"You  don't  fire  no  more  taters  at  me  if  I 
know  it.  Your  boat  is  here,  an'  if  you  want 
it  wusser'n  we  do,  come  an'  get  it.  'Tain't 
much  account  nohow." 

"I'm  going  to  bust  it  into  a  million  pieces 
to  pay  you  fur  that  there  whack  you  gin  me 
with  pap's  paddle  a  while  ago,"  shouted  the 
invisible  Jake,  who  would  not  show  so  much 
as  the  top  of  his  cap  to  the  boys  in  the  skiff. 
"I've  stood  jest  about  all  the  poundin'  I'm 
goin'  to." 

"  What  did  you  do  to  him,  Joe  ?  "  inquired 
Arthur,  as  he  and  Roy  turned  the  skiff  around 
and  pulled  back  toward  their  anchorage. 

"  Matt  threw  his  paddle  at  me  when  he  saw 
that  I  was  about  to  slip  through  his  fingers, 
and  I  threw  it  back,"  answered  Joe.  "It 
didn'  t  hit  Matt,  as  I  meant  it  should,  but  it  came 
pretty  near  knocking  Jake  out  of  the 
scow." 


340  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

"The  scow?"  repeated  Roy.  " Have  they 
got  a  boat  of  their  own,  I'd  like  to  know." 

Joe  replied  that  they  had  a  boat  in  their 
possession  (of  course  he  didn't  know  where 
they  got  it,  or  whether  or  not  they  had  any 
right  to  call  it  their  own),  and  then  went  on  to 
tell  of  the  exploit  I  had  performed  at  the  perch 
hole,  and  of  the  surprise  that  followed  close 
upon  the  heels  of  it.  He  wound  up  his  story 
by  saying— 

"I  didn't  have  time  to  draw  up  my  anchor, 
so  I  had  to  go  overboard.  I  swam  the  best  I 
knew  how  in  order  to  reach  the  bank  before 
Matt  did  ;  then  I  raced  a  mile  or  more  through 
the  woods  in  my  wet  clothes,  and  that  was 
what  tired  me  out." 

"  I  wonder  if  we  are  to  find  that  fellow  hang- 
ing around  every  time  we  come  into  the 
woods  \ "  said  Roy,  angrily.  "  Hallo,  here  !  " 

A  slight  splashing  in  the  water  drew  their 
attention  at  the  moment,  and  Joe  and  Arthur 
started  up  in  alarm,  expecting  to  find  that  the 
squatter  and  his  boys  had  stolen  a  march  upon 
them.  There  was  a  canoe  close  alongside  of 
them,  but  the  broad-shouldered,  brown- 


AN   EXPLOIT   AND   A   SURPRISE.  341 

whiskered  man  who  handled  the  paddle  was 
not  Matt  Coyle  or  any  body  like  him.  He  was 
one  of  the  hotel  guides  who  had  assisted  in 
driving  the  squatter  out  of  the  Indian  Lake 
country,  and  he  was  looking  for  him  now. 

"Hallo  yourself,"  he  replied,  good-naturedly. 
"  Well,  I  swan  to  man,  if  there  ain't  Roy 
Sheldon  and — Why,  you're  all  here,  ain't  you  ? 
Say !  seen  any  thing  of  Matt  Coyle  since  you 
have  been  hanging  around  ? ' ' 

"  Mr.  Swan,  how  are  you  ? "  exclaimed  all  the 
boys,  in  a  breath.  They  knew  the  guide,  and 
liked  him,  too. 

"You  have  come  to  the  right  place  to 
learn  a  good  deal  concerning  Matt  and  his 
doings,"  continued  Roy.  "  What  has  he  been 
up  to  now?" 

"  Well,  you  see,"  answered  the  guide,  speak- 
ing with  so  much  deliberation  that  the  impa- 
tient boys  wanted  to  hurry  him,  "he  came  here 
last  year  from  somewhere,  and  wanted  to  set 
in  for  a  guide  ;  but  the  hotels  down  to  the  lake 
wouldn't  have  him,  'cause  they  didn't  think 
he  was  a  safe  man  to  trust  with  a  boat,  and 
Matt,  he  allowed  that  he'd  fix  things  so't 


342  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME; 

there  wouldn't  be  no  guidin'  for  none  of 
us  to  do.  So  he's  took  to  the  woods,  and  he 
robs  every  camp  he  can  find,  if  there  don't 
happen  to  be  any  body  around  to  watch  it. 
Leastwise  we  lay  it  to  him,  'cause  we  know 
he's  around  here,  and  some  of  us  thought  that 
we'd  like  to  take  a  peep  at  his  shanty,  if  he's 
got  one." 

"We  can't  tell  you  where  his  shanty  is," 
said  Joe,  ' '  but  we  can  show  you  where  Matt 
and  his  boys  were  not  ten  minutes  ago.  He 
stole  my  canvas  canoe  and  gave  me  a  long  chase 
through  the  woods.  He  promised  that  if  he 
could  get  hold  of  me,  he  would  wear  a  hickory 
out  over  my  back." 

"Sho!"  exclaimed  the  guide.  "What 
for?" 

Joe's  story  was  a  long  one,  for  in  order  to 
make  the  guide  understand  how  he  and  his 
companions  had  incurred  the  enmity  of  the 
vindictive  squatter,  it  was  necessary  that  he 
should  go  back  to  the  time  when  Matt  and  his 
family  first  made  their  appearance  in  Mount 
Airy.  He  described  the  fight  between  them 
and  the  constable  and  his  posse,  the  particu- 


AN   EXPLOIT   AND   A   SURPRISE.  343 

lars  of  which  he  received  from  eye-witnesses  ; 
told  how  Matt  had  stolen  the  canoe  and  six  fine 
fishing-rods  and  reels,  while  he  and  his 
companions  were  looking  for  the  bear  they  saw 
on  the  shore  of  Sherwin's  Pond;  and  gave  a 
glowing  account  of  the  fight  in  the  creek,  at 
which  the  guide  laughed  heartily. 

"I'll  jest  bet  that  them  was  my  taters  that 
you  pelted  him  with,"  said  he;  " 'cause  while  I 
was  out  in  the  woods  with  a  guest  from  Boston, 
my  wife  said  that  my  garden  and  smoke-house 
were  both  robbed  in  one  night.  As  for  them 
fish  poles — I  think  I  can  tell  you  where  to  find 
them." 

"Good  for  you,  Mr.  Swan,"  cried  Arthur. 
"  Where  are  they  ?" 

"Of  course,  I  don't  know  that  they  belong 
to  you ;  I  only  suspect  it,"  continued  the 
guide.  "You  see,  one  day  last  summer,  Jake 
Coyle  brung  six  as  purty  poles  as  you  would 
want  to  look  at  up  to  the  Sportsman's  Home, 
and  told  Mr.  Hanson,  the  new  landlord,  that  he 
got  'em  in  a  boat  trade.  He  couldn't  use  'em, 
fur  they  wasn't  the  kind  that  he'd  been  in  the 
habit  of  handlin',  and  so  he  wanted  to  sell 'em. 


344  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

I  told  Hanson  that  I  was  as  sure  as  any  thing 
could  be  that  they  had  been  stole,  and  that 
mebbe  the  owner  would  come  along  some  day 
looking  for  them;  so  Hanson,  he  buys 'em, 
reels  and  all,  for  four  dollars  apiece — all  except 
one  that  Jake  said  had  been  broke  by  a  bass, 
and  for  that  he  give  two  dollars.  They  were 
covered  with  mud  and  rust,  but  I  cleaned  'em 
up,  and  now  they  look  as  good  as  new." 

"They  are  our  rods,  and  I  know  it,"  ex- 
claimed Roy.  "If  mine  is  the  one  that's 
broken,  I  shall  have  the  satisfaction  of  know- 
ing that  I  paid  Jake  for  it  in  advance  by  hitting 
him  in  the  mouth  with  that  potato." 

"  And  if  it's  mine,  I  settled  with  him  this 
afternoon  by  slapping  him  in  the  face  with  his 
father's  paddle,"  chimed  in  Joe  Wayring. 

The  guide  laughed  again.  "  You're  as 
plucky  a  lot  of  youngsters  as  I  ever  see,"  said 
he,  ' '  and  you  may  rest  assured  that  them  folks 
won't  bother  you  or  any  body  else  much  longer. 
We  are  going  to  put  'em  in  jail  for  thieves  when 
we  catch  'em." 

"Ah!  Yes,"  said  Arthur;  "but  that's 
right  where  you  are  going  to  see  trouble.  Our 


AN   EXPLOIT  AND   A    SURPRISE.  345 

deputy  sheriff  and  constable  searched  every 
inch  of  the  ground  around  Sherwin's  Pond, 
and  all  they  found  was  the  place  where  Matt's 
shanty  once  stood.  He  set  fire  to  it  before  he 
left  for  Indian  Lake." 

"  I  know  that  the  woods  about  here  are  tol- 
erable thick,  and  that  Matt  is  a  boss  hand  at 
hiding,"  replied  the  guide  ;  "but  he  will  find 
that  there' s  a  heap  of  difference  between  dodg- 
ing a  couple  of  townies,  and  in  getting  away 
from  a  lot  of  men  who  have  lived  in  the  woods 
ever  since  they  were  knee  high  to  so  many 
ducks.  Go  on,  Joe.  What  else  do  you  know 
about  Matt  Coyle  3" 

The  rest  of  Joe's  story  related  solely  to  the 
events  of  the  evening,  and  it  did  not  take  him 
long  to  describe  them.  When  he  concluded 
the  guide  was  almost  as  angry  as  he  and  his 
chums  were.  The  idea  that  that  worthless 
vagabond  should  threaten  to  beat  such  a  boy  as 
Joe  Wayring,  simply  because  he  had  showed 
the  courage  to  defend  himself  when  he  was  as- 
saulted !  The  guide  made  no  remark,  but  there 
was  a  look  in  his  eye  that  would  have  made  the 
squatter  uneasy  if  he  had  been  there  to  see  it. 


346  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

"It's  too  late  to  do  any  thing  to-night,"  said 
he,  at  length.  "I  reckon  you  boys  have  got 
something  good  to  eat  in  them  lockers?  I 
thought  so.  Well,  suppose  we  go  ashore 
and  camp." 

Joe  and  his  friends  readily  agreed  to  this 
proposition.  They  had  spent  five  days  and 
nights  in  their  boat,  and  they  longed  fora  good, 
sound  sleep  on  a  bed  of  balsam-boughs5  with 
the  spreading  branches  of  some  friendly  pine 
for  shelter  instead  of  their  water-proof  tent. 
They  wrere  not  afraid  to  go  into  camp  on  shore 
now  that  they  had  the  stalwart  guide  for  com- 
pany. Matt  and  his  boys  would  not  be  likely 
to  show  themselves  as  long  as  they  knew  that 
he  was  with  them  ;  but  the  trouble  was,  they 
didn't  know  it,  although  they  were  in  plain 
sight  when  the  boys  built  their  fire  on  the  bank, 
and  laid  their  plans  to  pay  them  a  visit  before 
morning. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

A   BATTLE   IN   THE   DARK. 

AS  OUR  three  friends  and  their  backwoods 
companion  were  old  campaigners,  they 
did  not  spend  much  time  in  getting  ready  for 
the  night.  A  roaring  fire  was  started,  the  jack- 
lamp  hung  upon  a  neighboring  tree,  and  by  the 
aid  of  the  light  thus  afforded  them,  Joe  Way- 
ring,  who  had  by  this  time  got  into  a  suit  of  dry 
clothes,  cleaned  the  fish  which  Arthur  and  Roy 
had  captured  during  his  absence ;  Arthur 
Hastings  fried  them  and  made  the  tea ;  Mr. 
Swan  prepared  the  bacon  and  pancakes  ;  and 
Roy  cut  the  balsam  boughs  and  arranged  the" 
beds.  In  less  than  three  quarters  of  an  hour 
after  they  drew  their  boats  upon  the  beach, 
they  sat  down  to  a  supper  that  would  have 
tempted  any  healthy  boy  to  eat,  no  matter 
whether  he  was  hungry  or  not. 

"Now,    Mr.   Swan,"    said    Joe,   when  the 


348  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

dishes  had  been  washed  in  the  clear  waters  of 
the  pond,  and  the  tin  bucket,  which  contained 
the  supply  of  fish  for  breakfast,  had  been  hung 
up  by  a  string  so  that  the  minks  that  were 
sure  to  come  around  during  the  night  could  not 
steal  them,  "  tell  us  a  story,  please." 

"About  what?"  inquired  the  guide,  as  he 
filled  his  pipe. 

"  Oh,  about  the  first  panther  you  ever  shot." 

"Or  about  the  bear  you  killed  with  a  club 
while  he  was  running  off  with  one  of  your 
pigs,"  suggested  Roy. 

Mr.  Swan  was  always  ready.  After  he  had 
taken  a  few  pulls  at  his  brier-root  to  make 
sure  that  it  was  well-started  he  began  and  told 
not  one  story,  but  a  dozen  or  more.  He  kept 
his  little  audience  interested  until  ten  o'clock, 
then  the  lamp  was  turned  out,  the  fire  replen- 
ished, and  the  campers  sought  their  beds  of 
balsam-boughs.  Lulled  by  the  rippling  of  the 
waves  upon  the  beach  at  their  feet,  and  by  the 
low  music  of  the  breeze  as  it  toyed  with  the 
branches  over  their  heads,  their  slumber  was 
deep  and  dreamless.  Even  the  usually  watch- 
ful Jim  seemed  to  think  that  there  was  no 


A   BATTLE  IN   THE  DARK.  349 

responsibility  resting  upon  him  for  this  partic- 
ular night,  and  that  the  mere  presence  of  the 
guide  was  all  the  protection  the  camp  needed, 
for  he  too  slept  soundly,  and  snored  while  he 
slept.  Consequently  he  did  not  see  the  uncouth 
object  which  drew  out  of  the  darkness  that 
covered  the  surface  of  the  pond,  and  slowly  and 
cautiously  approached  the  camp.  The  object 
was  Matt  Coyle's  scow,  and  in  it  were  the 
squatter  and  both  his  boys.  The  latter  were 
plying  their  paddles  with  noiseless  motion,  and 
Matt  was  kneeling  in  the  bow,  waving  first  one 
hand  and  then  the  other  to  show  them  what 
course  to  take. 

It  must  have  been  long  after  midnight,  for 
there  was  nothing  left  of  the  fire  but  a  glowing 
bed  of  coals  ;  but  still  there  was  light  enough 
to  enable  the  robber  to  see  the  outlines  of  the 
skiff,  but  not  sufficient  to  show  him  the  trim 
little  canoe  that  had  been  hauled  out  on  the 
bank  and  turned  bottom  side  up.  If  he  had 
seen  that,  he  would  have  lost  no  time  in  getting 
away  from  so  dangerous  a  neighborhood ; 
but  believing  that  the  boys  were  alone,  and 
that  they  had  forgotten  their  usual  caution  in 


350  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

spite  of  the  warning  events  of  the  afternoon,  he 
kept  on  until  he  was  close  enough  to  the  skiff 
to  take  hold  of  it.  I  saw  the  whole  proceeding, 
but  of  course  could  do  nothing  to  arouse  the 
slumbering  campers. 

' '  Now,  turn  about  on  your  seats  and  give 
way  the  best  you  know  how,"  I  heard  Matt 
whisper  to  his  boys.  "  We  must  pull  her  off 
into  deep  water  before  them  fellers  can  wake 
up  an'  get  a  holt  on  her." 

"  Say,  pap,"  whispered  Jake,  in  reply. 
"Ain't  we  goin'  ashore  to  give  them  a  good  lar- 
rupin'  before  they  make  up  ?  " 

If  the  guide  had  not  been  there,  these  words 
would  have  horrified  me ;  but  as  it  was,  I  did 
not  feel  at  all  uneasy.  I  knew  very  well  that 
Matt  and  his  boys  were  no  match  for  our  party, 
and  that  they  would  all  be  captured  as  surely 
as  they  put  their  feet  on  shore  ;  but  I  did  not 
want  to  see  them  steal  that  skiff.  Oh,  why 
didn't  Jim  wake  up  and  alarm  his  master  ! 

"  We'll  'tend  to  them  after  we  get  the  skiff 
an'  all  the  nice  grub  an'  things  that's  into  it," 
said  the  squatter,  as  he  tightened  his  grasp. 
"Now  be  you  all  ready  ?  Then  give  way." 


A   BATTLE  IN   THE  DARK.  351 

Jake  and  Sam  laid  out  all  their  strength 
upon  their  paddles,  and  the  bow  of  the  skiff 
grated  harshly  as  it  moved  over  the  sand.  The 
noise,  slight  as  it  was,  awoke  Jim,  who  was  on 
his  feet  in  a  twinkling.  He  took  just  one  glance 
at  the  marauders,  and  then  danced  about  the 
camp  in  a  perfect  ecstasy  of  rage,  barking  and 
yelping  with  all  his  might. 

His  first  note  of  angry  remonstrance  alarmed 
the  boys,  who  were  off  their  fragrant  couches 
in  less  time  than  it  takes  to  tell  it.  The  mo- 
ment they  arose  to  a  perpendicular,  they  were 
wide  awake  and  ready  to  act.  They  made  a 
simultaneous  rush  for  the  beach,  and  while 
Arthur  and  Joe  seized  the  skiff  and  pulled  her 
back  where  she  belonged,  in  spite  of  all  that 
Jake  and  his  brother  could  do  to  prevent  it, 
Roy  caught  up  the  painter  and  deftly  took  a 
turn  with  it  around  a  convenient  sapling. 

"  Now,  haul  away  and  see  how  much  you 
will  make  by  it,"  he  exclaimed.  "That's 
once  you  got  fooled." 

"  Wai,  I'll  bet  a  hoss  that  I  ain't  fooled  yet," 
said  the  squatter,  in  savage  tones.  "Pull 
ashore,  Jakey,  an'  we'll  get  out  an'  lambast 


352  JOE   WAYEING   AT   HOME. 

them  fellers  till  their  own  mammies  won't  know 
'em  when  they  go  hum.  Human  natur!"  he 
ejaculated  a  moment  later,  as  the  tall  form  of 
the  guide  came  between  him  and  the  smolder- 
ing fire.  "  Who's  that  ?  If  it  ain't  Swan,  I'm 
a  Dutchman." 

"Come  on,  you  miserable  scoundrel,"  cried 
the  guide,  shaking  his  huge  fist  at  the  aston- 
ished and  thoroughly  frightened  robber.  "I 
have  been  looking  for  you,  and  now  that  I 
have,  found  you,  I  am  going  to  take  you  back 
to  Indian  Lake  with  me." 

But  Matt  and  his  boys  were  not  as  anxious 
to  go  ashore  now  as  they  had  been.  Without 
saying  a  word  in  reply  they  bent  to  their  pad- 
dles, and  made  all  haste  to  get  out  of  sight  in 
the  darkness. 

"Now,  Joe,"  said  Mr.  Swan,  who  never  got 
excited  even  under  the  most  trying  circumstan- 
ces, "  shove  off  and  take  after  them.  You  can 
go  faster  than  they  can,  so  if  you  will  get 
ahead  of  them  and  keep  them  from  reaching 
the  opposite  shore,  I  will  come  up  on  this 
side,  and  we  will  have  them  bet  ween  two  fires." 

Joe  and  his  companions  were  prompt  to  act 


A   BATTLE   IN   THE   DARK.  353 

upon  this  suggestion.  He  and  Roy  pushed  the 
skiff  into  the  water,  and  when  she  was  fairly 
afloat  Arthur  sprang  aboard  with  the  jack- 
lamp  in  his  hand.  A  moment  later  its  strong 
light  flashed  out  over  the  pond,  telling  the  flee- 
ing squatter  in  language  as  plain  as  words  that 
the  darkness  could  not  conceal  his  movements. 

"There  they  are,  not  more  than  forty  yards," 
said  Arthur,  who  stood  erect  on  the  stern 
locker,  steadying  himself  with  the  boathook. 
"  Roy,  let  me  have  that  oar,  and  you  stand 
here  with  the  lamp  and  open  fire  on  them  with 
your  potatoes." 

"I  can't,"  was  the  answer.  "I  took  the 
potatoes  ashore  to-night  and  washed  some  for 
breakfast ;  and  the  bag  is  in  camp  at  this 
moment." 

"Then  we  shall  have  to  come  to  close  quar- 
ters with  them,"  said  Arthur,  "for  I  have  no 
idea  that  they  will  give  up  when  they  find 
themselves  cut  oil  from  shore." 

' '  If  we  can  only  manage  to  detain  them  for 
two  minutes,  we  shall  have  all  the  help  we 
want,"  Joe  remarked.  "  Look  behind  you." 

Arthur  glanced  over  his  shoulder,  and  was 


354  JOE   WAY  RING  AT   HOME. 

surprised  to  see  the  guide  in  less  than  a  stone's 
throw  of  the  skiff.  How  he  had  managed  to 
put  his  canoe  into  the  water  and  get  her  under 
way  with  so  little  loss  of  time,  was  a  mystery. 

"  A  fellow  would  have  to  look  out  for  Mr. 
Swan  in  a  hurry-skurry  race,  wouldn't  he?" 
said  Arthur.  "  Just  see  how  he  makes  that 
little  craft  of  his  get  through  the  water !  If 
you  two  don't  let  out  a  section  or  so  of  your 
muscle,  he  will  overtake  the  scow  before  we 
do." 

Just  then  Matt  Coyle's  hoarse  voice  was 
heard  calling  warningly  to  them.  "Don't 
come  no  nigher,"  it  said.  "If  you  think  that 
we  are  sich  fules  as  to  go  down  to  Injun  Lake 
when  we  want  to  stay  here,  you  are  the  biggest 
kind  of  fules  yourselves.  I'll  break  the  head 
of  the  fust  one  of  you  that  comes  within 
reach." 

"Matt  has  crawled  back  to  the  stern  of  his 
scow,  and  is  standing  there  with  his  paddle  in 
his  hand,"  said  Arthur,  who  could  see  every 
move  the  robber  made.  ' '  I  wonder  if  he  thinks 
that  we  are  '  fules'  enough  to  give  him  battle 
before  Mr.  Swan  comes  up  to  help  us." 


A   BATTLE   IN   THE   DARK.  355 

That  was  just  what  Matt  was  looking  for, 
and  he  did  not  know  what  to  make  of  it  when 
the  skiff  dashed  by  his  scow,  keeping  so  far 
beyond  reach  that  he  could  not  have  touched 
any  of  her  crew  with  his  paddle  if  he  had  tried, 
and  deliberately  placed  herself  across  his  path. 
Then  his  eyes  were  opened  to  the  details  of  the 
plan  that  had  been  laid  to  entrap  him,  and 
the  promptness  with  which  he  went  to  work  to 
extricate  himself  was  surprising.  He  said  a 
few  words  in  a  low  tone  to  his  boys,  then  put 
his  own  paddle  into  the  water,  and  the  scow 
shot  ahead  with  greatly  increased  speed,  never 
swerving  from  her  original  course  by  so  much 
as  a  hair's  breadth. 

"Does  the  old  villain  mean  to  run  us  down, 
or  does  he  intend  to  come  alongside  and  capture 
us  and  the  skiff  ?  "  said  Roy,  who  was  alarmed 
as  well  as  amazed  by  the  squatter's  offensive 
tactics.  "Back  water,  Joe,  while  I  give  way. 
It  looks  as  though  ice  had  got  to  run  now." 

The  scow  was  so  close  to  them  that  they  had 
no  time  to  get  out  of  her  way.  They  saw  at  a 
glance  that  all  they  could  reasonably  hope  to 
accomplish  was  to  turn  their  boat  slightly,  so 


356  JOE   WAYRING   AT    HOME. 

that  if  the  scow  struck  her  at  all,  it  would  be  a 
glancing  blow.  But  they  had  miscalculated 
the  speed  of  Matt's  clumsy  looking  craft.  She 
seemed  to  glide  over  the  top  of  the  water 
instead  of  passing  through  it,  as  other  boats  do. 
On  she  came  with  terrific  force,  and  although 
Joe  and  Roy  worked  hard  to  slip  out  of  her 
way,  she  struck  the  skiff  fairly  in  the  side,  rip- 
ping off  two  of  her  planks,  smashing  in  as  many 
more,  and  making  a  hole  that  Mars  could  have 
crawled  through  with  all  ease.  At  the  same 
instant  darkness  settled  down  over  the  scene  as 
if  by  magic.  Arthur  Hastings  had  been  knocked 
off  his  perch  on  the  stern  locker,  and  he  and 
the  jack-lamp  went  into  the  pond  together. 

"Whoop-ee!"  yelled  Matt,  triumphantly. 
"Will  you  git  outen  our  road  the  next  time 
you  see  us  comin'  ?  Take  that  fur  your  imper- 
dence  in  gittin'  before  your  betters,"  he  added, 
making  a  vicious  blow  with  his  paddle  at  the 
place  where  he  had  last  seen  Joe  Wayring's 
head. 

Joe's  head  was  not  there  now,  however,  for 
he  had  been  sharp  enough  to  put  it  somewhere 
else  ;  but  Matt  was  speedily  made  aware  that 


A   BATTLE   IN   THE   DARK.  357 

the  boy  was  not  far  away,  for  as  the  blade  of 
his  paddle  whistled  harmlessly  through  the  air, 
he  received  a  punch  in  the  ribs  with  an  oar  that 
brought  from  him  a  yell  of  pain,  and  came  very 
near  sending  him  into  the  water.  At  the  same 
moment,  a  howl  of  agony  from  the  unlucky 
Jake  announced  that  Roy  was  taking  a  hand  in 
the  rumpus. 

The  fight  that  followed  was  a  very  short  one, 
but  it  was  warm  while  it  lasted,  and  gave  Matt 
and  his  boys  some  idea  of  what  a  couple  of 
.brave  young  fellows  could  do  when  they  were 
cornered.  Joe,  while  defending  himself  against 
the  muscular  squatter,  managed  to  get  in  sev- 
eral good  blows  ;  Roy  pounded  Sam  to  his 
heart' s  content,  Jake  having  dropped  out  of  the 
contest  at  the  very  beginning  of  it ;  and  Arthur 
clung  to  the  side  of  the  skiif  and  called  lustily 
for  Mr.  Swan. 

'Tm  coming."  replied  the  guide,  who  was 
doing  all  he  could  to  bring  himself  alongside 
the  scow.  "Keep  them  there  just  a  minute 
longer." 

Roy  and  Joe  would  have  obeyed  if  they  could  ; 
but  when  Matt  heard  Mr.  Swan's  voice  sound- 


358  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

ing  so  close  to  him,  he  pushed  his  piratical 
craft  away  from  the  skiff,  and  the  darkness 
shut  him  out  from  view.  When  the  guide 
arrived  a  few  minutes  later,  he  found  the  boys 
supporting  themselves  by  holding  fast  to  the 
sides  of  their  boat,  which  was  full  of  water. 
They  had  relieved  her  of  their  weight  just  in 
time  to  keep  her  from  going  to  the  bottom  of 
the  pond.  She  would  not  sink  now,  for  she 
had  no  cargo  aboard  to  speak  of,  and  besides, 
the  air  that  was  imprisoned  in  the  lockers 
assisted  in  keeping  her  aiioat. 

"  Well,  if  this  don't  beat  the  world!" 
exclaimed  Mr.  Swan,  as  soon  as  he  had  taken 
in  the  situation.  "Somehow  or  other  those 
villains  always  manage  to  come  out  at  the  top 
of  the  heap,  don't  they  ?  Did  you  have  a  fight 
with  them?  I  heard  sticks  a  clashing  and 
somebody  yelling.  I  hope  none  of  you  ain't 
hurt." 

"Don't  be  uneasy  on  that  score,"  replied 
Roy.  "  Joe  and  I  had  a  scrimmage  with  them, 
but  you  didn't  hear  either  one  of  us  yell.  It 
was  Matt  and  Jake.  Sam  was  good  grit.  lie 
never  said  a  word,  although  I  punched  him 


A   BATTLE   IN   THE   DARK.  359 

with  the  blade  of  my  oar  the  best  I  knew  how. 
Arthur  was  standing  on  one  of  the  lockers 
when  the  scow  struck  us,  and  he  and  the  lamp 
made  a  plunge  of  ten  feet  in  the  clear  before 
they  touched  the  water." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  they  ran  into  you 
a  purpose  ?  "  exclaimed  the  guide. 

"  Of  course  they  did.  We  cut  them  off  from 
the  shore,  as  you  directed,  and  that  old  scow 
of  theirs  came  at  us  like  a  battering- ram.  Matt 
heard  Joe  tell  us  to-night  to  sink  the  canoe, 
and  that  was  what  put  it  into  his  head  to  run 
into  us."" 

Meanwhile  Arthur  Hastings  had  worked  his 
way  around  to  the  bow  of  the  skiff  and  secured 
the  painter,  one  end  of  which  he  made  fast  to 
a  ring  in  the  stern  of  the  canoe.  The  chase 
was  over,  of  course.  They  could  not  continue 
the  pursuit  in  the  dark,  for  the  squatter  could 
easily  elude  them  in  a  hundred  different  ways, 
and  neither  would  it  be  prudent  to  follow  him 
in  the  canoe.  The  little  craft  was  intended  to 
carry  only  one  person,  with  a  very  limited 
allowance  of  camp  equipage,  and  the  added 
weight  of  one  of  the  boys  would  have  sunk 


360  JOE   WAYKING   AT   HOME. 

her  so  deep  in  the  water  that  no  speed  could 
be  got  out  of  her.  The  only  thing  they  could 
do  was  to  go  back  to  camp  and  linish  their 
sleep. 

"  But  what  shall  we  do  to-morrow  ?  "  was 
the  question  that  Joe  and  his  comrades  asked 
themselves  and  one  another.  "Our  boat  is 
badly  stove,  and  if  we  can't  patch  her  up,  how 
are  we  going  to  get  back  to  Mount  Airy  ? " 

Mr.  Swan  towed  the  disabled  skiff  to  the 
shore,  her  crew  swimming  alongside  or  trying 
to  assist  him  by  pushing  behind,  and  the  fire 
was  started  up  again  to  aid  them  in  making  an 
examination  of  the  injuries  she  had  received. 
They  were  fully  as  severe  as  the  boys  expected 
to  find  them,  and  it  was  a  wonder  to  them  that 
she  was  so  long  in  filling. 

"  There's  plenty  of  guides  down  to  the  lake 
that  can  fix  her  up  for  you  in  good  shape," 
said  Mr.  Swan. 

"  Of  course,"  replied  Roy.  "  But  the  lake 
is  twenty-five  miles  from  here,  and  there's  no 
way  to  get  her  down  there." 

"  Mebbe  there  is,"  answered  the  guide. 
"For  a  shilling  I'll  agree  that  she  shall  go 


A   BATTLE   IN  THE   DARK.  361 

down  there,  and  carry  you  into  the  bargain. 
But  we  can't  do  nothing  with  her  to-night. 
You  boys  get  on  some  dry  clothes  and  go  to 
bed  again." 

Joe  and  his  companions  were  quite  willing  to 
act  upon  this  suggestion,  but  they  were  in  no 
hurry  to  go  to  sleep.  Neither  was  Mr.  Swan. 
They  sat  around  the  fire  for  a  long  time,  talk- 
ing over  the  incidents  of  their  battle  in  the  dark, 
and  as  I  listened  closely,  I  have  been  able  to  give 
you  the  story  in  the  same  way  that  it  was  told  to 
Mr.  Swan.  The  squatter' s  extraordinary  luck 
and  the  skill  he  exhibited  in  eluding  arrest 
seemed  to  astonish  the  mall.  How  I  longed 
for  the  power  of  speech  so  that  I  could  tell 
them  that  robbing  camps  and  smoke-houses 
was  not  the  only  business  to  which  Matt  Coyle 
intended  to  devote  himself,  now  that  the  offer 
of  his  service  as  guide  and  boatman  had  been 
declined  by  the  managers  of  the  Indian  Lake 
hotels.  But  they  found  it  out  for  themselves, 
and  before  long,  too. 

It  was  three  o'clock  before  the  campers  again 
sought  their  blankets.  The  boys  slept  much 
later  than  usual,  but  the  guide  was  stirring  at 


362  JOE  WAYRING-  AT  HOME. 

the  first  peep  of  day.  He  piled  fresh  fuel  on 
the  fire,  put  Roy's  potatoes  into  the  ashes  to 
roast,  made  the  coffee  and  pancakes,  and  took 
time  while  the  fish  were  frying  to  give  the  skiff 
another  good  looking  over.  Then  he  picked 
up  Joe's  camp  ax,  and  disappeared  among 
the  trees,  returning  a  few  minutes  later  with 
several  large  slabs  of  birch  bark.  By  this  time 
the  fish  were  done,  and  the  guide  announced 
the  fact  by  calling  out— 

"  Tumble  up,  you  sleepy  heads.  You've 
just  two  seconds  in  which  to  take  a  dip  in  the 
pond  and  get  ready  for  breakfast." 

Having  had  as  many  "  dips  "  as  they  wanted 
already,  the  boys  contented  themselves  with 
washing  their  hands  and  faces  ;  after  which 
they  sat  down  to  their  homely-  breakfast  with 
appetites  to  which  the  dwellers  in  towns  and 
cities  are,  for  the  most  part,  strangers.  Of 
course  the  squatter  was  still  uppermost  in  their 
minds,  and  he  and  his  exploits  formed  the 
principal  topic  of  their  conversation. 

"By  the  way,  Mr.  Swan,  you  forgot  to  tell 
us  what  Matt  stole  at  those  camps,"  said 
Arthur,  suddenly. 


A   BATTLE   IN   THE   DARK.  363 

"  Did  I  ?  Well,  in  my  camp  he  took  aLefever 
hammerless  that  cost  the  owner  three  hundred 
dollars  ;  and  from  a  gentleman  who  had  Bob 
Martin  for  a  guide,  he  stole  a  Winchester 
worth  fifty  dollars.  Not  satisfied  with  that, 
he  took  every  thing  in  the  shape  of  grub  that 
he  could  lay  his  hands  on,  and  me  and  my 
employer  had  to  live  on  trout  while  we  were 
making  a  journey  of  more  than  a  hundred  and 
fifty  miles.  Trout's  good  enough  once  in  a 
while  ;  but  I  swan  to  man,  if  I  want  it  for  a 
steady  diet.  Bob  Martin  said  he  eat  so  much 
of  that  kind  of  food  that  he  wanted  to  snap  at 
every  fly  that  came  near  him." 

"  Matt  and  his  family  are  always  on  the  look- 
out for  grub,  and  I  should  think  that  the 
sharp  edge  would  be  taken  off  their  appetites 
after  a  while,"  Arthur  remarked.  "Did  you 
try  to  follow  his  trail  ? " 

" Bless  you,  no.  There  ain't  a  country  in 
Ameriky  that  is  so  well  provided  with  water 
courses  as  this  Indian  Lake  country  is,  and 
what's  the  use  of  trying  to  follow  the  trail  of  a 
boat  ?  You  might  as  well  think  of  tracking  a 
bird  through  the  air." 


364  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

' '  What  do  you  suppose  Matt  intends  to  do 
with  those  guns  ? "  inquired  Roy.  "  Of  course 
he  wouldn't  be  so  foolish  as  to  offer  them  for 
sale  around  here,  and  they  certainly  will  be  of 
no  use  to  him  unless  he  took  a  big  supply  of 
cartridges  at  the  same  time  he  took  the 
weapons." 

"  I've  got  my  own  idea  about  that,"  replied 
the  guide.  "It's  only  an  idea,  mind  you,  but 
I  have  good  reason  for  holding  to  it.  A  year 
ago  last  spring,  Matt  got  to  acting  just  as  he's 
acting  now,  because  the  hotels  wouldn't  send 
him  out  with  their  guests,  and  me  and  the  rest 
of  the  guides  tracked  him  down,  and  told  him 
that  he'd  got  to  clear  himself.  He  allowed  he 
wouldn't  do  it,  and  that  he'd  make  it  hot  for 
the  fellers  that  tried  to  make  him  go,  so  we 
went  to  work  and  burned  up  everything  he  had, 
except  his  clothes  and  we'pons.  Then  he  had 
to  dig  out ;  but  before  he  went,  he  sent  us 
word  that  if  he  couldn't  do  guiding  for 
the  hotels  none  of  us  should,  for  the  reason 
that  there  wouldn't  be  nobody  to  hire  us." 

"What  did  he  mean  by  that?"  exclaimed 
Joe. 


A   BATTLE   IN   THE  DATCK.  365 

"You're  pretty  sharp  fellows,"  said  the 
guide,  in  reply.  "  What's  your  opinion  of  his 
meaning?" 

"  He  doesn't  intend  to  kill  off  the  guests  as 
fast  as  they  arrive,  does  he  ? "  said  Arthur. 

' '  Probably  not, ' '  said  Joe.  ' '  But  he  means  to 
steal  them  poor,  and  bother  them  in  every  way 
he  can,  so  that  they  won't  come  here  to  spend 
their  summer  vacations." 

"That's  the  very  idea,"  said  the  guide,  ap- 
provingly. "That's  what  he  was  up  to,  and 
that's  what  he  is  trying  to  do  now;  but  we 
ain't  going  to  let  him  stay.  Now,  then,"  he 
added,  as  he  arose  to  his  feet  and  produced  his 
ancient  brier-root,  "if  one  of  you  will  help  me 
while  the  others  tend  to  things  about  the  camp, 
we'll  be  on  our  way  to  the  lake  in  less'n  half 
an  hour  by  Joe's  Waterbury." 

"Are  you  going  with  us?"  asked  Arthur, 
who  was  delighted  at  the  prospect  of  spending 
the  day,  and  perhaps  another  night  in  the  com- 
pany of  so  famous  a  story  teller. 

"I  reckon  I  might  as  well,"  replied  the 
guide.  "I  know  where  to  find  Matt' s  trail 
now,  but  I  can't  do  nothing  with  Jam  an<i  his 


366  JOE  WAYKING   AT  HOME. 

family  all  by  myself,  so  I  will  go  back  and  get 
some  of  the  boys  to  help  me." 

"Well,  see  here,  Mr.  Swan,"  said  Joe.  "If 
you  have  to  burn  him  out  again,  don't  forget  to 
save  my  canoe  from  the  general  destruction. 
I  know  it  isn't  a  very  valuable  thing,  having 
seen  its  best  days  long  ago,  but  still  I  shouldn't 
like  to  think  that  I  had  lost  it  for  good." 

"I'll  bear  it  in  mind,"  said  the  guide. 
"Now,  don't  let  the  fire  go  out.  We  shall 
need  it  to  toast  the  bark." 

"  What  do  you  want  to  toast  the  bark  for  ? " 

"  Why,  to  make  it  straighten  out  and  stay 
somewhere.  Don' t  you  see  how  it  curls  up  in 
all  sorts  of  ways?  Summer  bark  isn't  as 
good  as  winter  bark  for  this  sort  of  work,  but 
I  reckon  we  can  make  it  keep  the  water  out  of 
the  skiff  till  we  get  to  the  lake." 

Arthur  and  Joe  made  all  haste  to  wash  the 
breakfast  dishes  and  collect  their  "  duffle",  so 
that  there  would  be  no  delay  in  loading  the 
skiff  when  the  repairs  were  completed,  and  then 
sat  down  to  keep  the  fire  going,  and  to  watch 
the  guide,  in  whose  proceedings  they  were 
much  interested.  They  wanted  to  learn  how  it 


A   BATTLE   IN   THE   DARK.  367 

was  done,  so  that  they  might  know  what  to  do 
in  case  a  similar  misfortune  befell  them  when 
there  was  no  accommodating  backwoodsman 
near  to  help  them.  Fortunately  they  never 
went  into  the  woods  without  taking  with  'them 
some  strips  of  canvas,  a  supply  of  tallow  and 
rosin,  and  a  paper  of  copper  tacks.  By  the  aid 
of  the  tacks,  the  birch  bark,  after  it  had  been 
toasted  over  the  fire  so  that  it  would  "stay 
somewhere",  was  fastened  upon  the  gaping 
wound  which  the  sharp  corner  of  Matt's  scow 
had  made  in  her  side,  the  seams  were  thickly 
coated  with  melted  rosin  and  tallow,  then  the 
canvas  was  tacked  on,  and  Mr.  Swan  declared 
that  his  task  was  finished. 

"  She'll  leak  a  little  water,  of  course,"  said 
he,  as  he  filled  up  for  another  smoke,  ' '  but  not 
much  after  the  bark  has  a  chance  to  swell  a 
trifle.  Now  I  reckon  we  are  ready  to  be 
off." 

It  was  the  work  of  but  a  few  minutes  to  pack 
the  provisions  and  cooking  utensils  away  in 
the  lockers,  and  as  soon  as  that  had  been  done, 
the  boys  shoved  the  skiff  into  the  water  and 
followed  Mr.  Swan,  whose  canoe  was  moving 


368  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

toward  the  creek  which  connected  the  pond 
with  Indian  Lake.  The  boat  didn't  leak  as 
much  as  they  thought  it  would.  Five  minutes' 
bailing  every  half  hour  kept  her  comparatively 
dry. 

The  boys  camped  that  night  within  less  than 
five  miles  of  the  lake,  and  of  course  had  the  pleas- 
ure of  listening  to  more  of  the  guide's  stories. 
They  made  an  early  start  the  next  morning, 
Mr.  Swan  being  impatient  to  obtain  assistance 
and  resume  the  pursuit  of  the  man  who  had 
despioled  the  camp  of  his  employer,  and  at 
seven  o'clock  the  two  boats  were  run  up  on  the 
beach  in  front  of  the  Sportsman's  Home. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

AN   OLD   ACQUAINTANCE. 

MR.  SWAN  and  his  young  friends  at  once 
went  ashore  and  set  out  for  the 
hotel,  the  former  to  tell  "the  boys"  that  he 
had  struck  the  trail  of  the  man  they  most 
wanted  to  see,  and  Joe  and  his  companions  to 
examine  the  rods  the  landlord  had  in  his  pos- 
session, and  to  engage  some  one  who  was  handy 
with  tools  to  repair  the  skiff.  They  left  me 
lying  in  my  usual  place  on  the  stern  locker, 
with  Jim  and  the  two  bait-rods  for  com- 
pany. 

I  had  heard  so  much  about  Indian  Lake  and 
its  hotels  that  I  had  pictured  them  out  to  my- 
self, and  thought  I  could  tell  pretty  near  how 
they  looked  ;  but  nevertheless  I  was  greatly 
surprised  by  what  I  saw  around  me.  I  told 
myself  that  the  boy  who  could  not  find  there 
what  he  wanted  in  the  way  of  recreation,  must 


370  JOE   WAYKING   AT  HOME. 

be  hard  to  suit.  If  he  was  fond  of  gay  com- 
pany and  liked  such  places  as  Saratoga  and 
Long  Branch,  he  would  probably  stop  at  the 
"American"  on  the  further  side  of  the  lake; 
but  if  he  were  an  angler  and  a  lover  of  nature, 
or  if  he  desired  to  get  away  somewhere  and 
rest,  he  would  choose  the  "  Sportsman's  Home" 
every  time. 

The  house  itself  looked  like  a  hunter's  camp 
on  a  grand  scale,  or  like  the  cabins  of  the 
loggers  I  afterward  saw  in  the  wilds  of  Maine, 
only  it  had  two  stories  instead  of  one.  It  was 
built  entirely  of  logs,  which  had  been  painted 
with  some  substance  that  I  don't  know  the 
name  of,  but  it  sparkled  in  the  bright  sunlight 
like  a  covering  of  ice.  In  the  groves  that  sur- 
rounded the  hotel  on  all  sides,  were  log  houses, 
tents  and  shanties  without  number.  Noisy 
children  were  running  in  and  out  among  the 
trees,  the  clashing  of  croquet  balls  was  almost 
incessant,  sportsmen  in  dogskin  jackets,  leather 
helmets  and  leggings,  and  guides  in  blue  shirts 
and  cowhide  boots  were  constantly  going  and 
coming,  and  every  one  that  I  saw  seemed  to  be 
enjoying  himself.  This  was  one  of  the  happy 


AN   OLD   ACQUAINTANCE.  371 

parties  that  Matt  Coyle  was  determined  to 
break  up  because  the  landlords  refused  to  trust 
their  guests  to  his  care !  It  was  no  wonder 
Mr.  Swan  and  his  brother  guides  were  anxious 
to  rid  the  country  of  the  presence  of  such  a 
villain.  While  I  was  thinking  about  it  I  heard 
myself  addressed  in  a  faint  voice  ;  and  upon 
looking  in  the  direction  from  which  it  came,  I 
discovered  a  seedy  breech-loader  resting 
against  the  thwart  of  the  neighboring  canoe. 

"You  don't  seem  to  remember  me,"  said  he, 
reproachfully. 

"I  can't  say  that  I  do,"  was  my  reply. 
UI  think  you  have  made  a  mistake  in  the  fly- 
rod." 

"No,  I  haven't,"  said  he,  confidently.  "I 
knew  you  before  you  left  Mr.  Brown's  store. 
Don' t  you  remember  the  English  fowling-piece 
that  had  the  dispute  with  that  conceited 
bamboo?  " 

So  this  was  my  old  acquaintance,  the 
"  Brummagem  shooting-iron,"  was  it  ?  It  was 
right  on  the  point  of  my  tongue  to  remind  him 
that  the  bamboo  had  not  showed  himself  to  be 
any  more  conceited  than  he  was ;  but  I  didn't 


372  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

say  it.  I  judged  by  his  appearance  that  he  had 
seen  pretty  hard  times  since  he  left  Mr.  Brown's 
protecting  care.  He  had  sneering]  y  told  me 
that  I  was  not  worth  the  modest  price  that  had 
been  set  upon  me,  but,  here  I  was,  as  bright  as 
ever,  while  he  looked  as  though  he  had  been 
through  half  a  dozen  wars. 

"I  remember  you  now,"  said  I,  "but  you 
have  changed  so  much  that  I  did  not  recognize 
you  at  first.  Where  have  you  been,  and  what 
have  you  done  since  that  countryman  of  yours 
ordered  you  to  be  sent  up  to  the  Lambert 
House?" 

"He  was  no  countryman  of  mine,"  replied 
the  double  barrel,  sadly.  "He  was  a  full- 
fledged  Yankee  who  tried  to  pass  himself  off 
for  something  better  than  he  really  was.  But 
he's  got  all  over  that ;  the  guides  laughed  him 
out  of  it." 

"  Did  they  laugh  you  into  your  present  con- 
dition?" I  asked,  remembering  that  the 
double  barrel  had  also  tried  to  pass  him- 
self off  for  something  better  than  he  really 
was. 

"Eh?  No,"  he  replied,  indignantly.     "It's 


AN   OLD   ACQUAINTANCE.  373 

the  result  of  abuse  and  hardship.  Last  year  I 
was  stolen  out  of  camp — " 

"  By  whom  ?  "  I  interrupted,  excitedly. 

"By  a  vagabond  who  calls  himself  Matt 
Coyle, ' '  was  the  reply.  ' '  His  old  shanty  leaked 
like  a  sieve,  and  I  got  wet  and  rusty.  That's 
what  makes  me  look  so  bad." 

"  How  did  your  master  get  you  back  ? " 

"I  heard  the  story  about  in  this  way:  In 
less  than  an  hour  after  I  was  stolen,  a  dirty, 
unkempt  boy  made  his  appearance  in  my 
master's  camp,  and  told  him  that  he  had  been 
fishing  on  the  pond  all  the  afternoon,  that  he 
knew  the  man  who  took  me,  and  for  a  reward 
of  ten  dollars  he  would  follow  me  up  and  steal 
me  back  again." 

"  Of  course  your  master  wasn't  deceived  by 
any  such  shallow  trick  as  that ! "  I  ex- 
claimed. 

"Well,  he  was.  You  see,  he  and  the  two 
young  fellows  who  come  up  here  with  him 
every  summer,  never  hire  a  guide.  As  they 
seldom  venture  more  than  twenty  or  thirty 
miles  away  from  the  lake,  and  never  leave  the 
water  courses,  there's  really  no  need  of  a  guide  ; 


374  JOE   WAYRING   AT  HOME. 

but  if  they  had  had  one  when  that  boy  came 
into  camp,  he  would  have  saved  my  master 
from  imposition.  As  it  was,  he  promised  to 
give  him  the  ten  dollars,  and  before  sunset  I 
was  brought  back.  But  it  had  rained  buckets 
during  my  absence,  I  was  wet  inside  and  out, 
my  master  did  not  know  enough  to  take  care  of 
me,  and  that'  s  how  I  came  to  be  in  this  fix. 
They're  coming  now,  and  we  are  off  again,  I 
suppose." 

I  looked  toward  the  hotel,  and  there  was  the 
young  man  with  the  gold  eye-glasses,  peaked 
shoes  and  downy  upper  lip — the  same  knowing 
fellow,  who  had  been  foolish  enough  to  take  a 
cheap  gun  that  wasn't  warranted,  with  the 
expectation  that  it  would  do  as  good  work  as  a 
Greener. 

"  We're  going  up  to  the  pond,  and  I  shall  be 
called  upon  to  fire  heavier  charges  than  I  can 
stand  at  every  thing  in  the  shape  of  a  partridge 
or  squirrel  that  comes  in  my  way,"  added  the 
double  barrel. 

"  You  ought  not  to  be  required  to  shoot  those 
birds  at  this  time  of  year,"  said  I.  "It's 
against  the  law." 


AN   OLD   ACQUAINTANCE.  375 

"Oh,  I  don't  hurt  them  any.  I  only  shoot 
at  them.  I  never  killed  any  thing." 

"  That's  just  what  Mr.  Brown  said  when  he 
sold  you,"  thought  I.  "Have  you  a  dog  to 
guard  your  camp  ?  Well,  you  ought  to  have. 
Matt  Coyle  lives  up  there,  and  night  before 
last  he  made  a  daring  attempt  to  steal  this 
skiff,  and  then  he  tried  to  sink  her.  Don't  you 
see  the  hole  in  her  side  \  " 

I  was  going  on  to  tell  the  double  barrel  that 
if  his  master  did  not  keep  his  eyes  open  he 
might  expect  another  visit  from  the  squatter, 
but  just  then  I  saw  Joe  Wayring  and  his 
friends  coming  down  the  bank  ;  and  as  I  was 
more  interested  in  them  and  the  rods  they  car- 
ried on  their  shoulders,  than  I  was  in  the  for- 
tunes of  the  seedy-looking  fowling  piece,  I  had 
nothing  more  to  say  to  him.  I  saw  him  once 
afterward,  and  then  he  was  a  perfect  wreck  of 
a  gun.  There  wasn't  enough  of  him  left  to  sell 
for  old  iron. 

"  Haw  !  haw  !  "  said  Roy,  as  he  jumped  into 
the  skiff.  "  We've  got  them  back  again,  and 
only  one  of  them  is  the  worse  for  being  stolen 
by  that  squatter." 


376  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

I  wondered  which  one  that  was,  and  found 
out  when  Arthur  Hastings  began  taking  his 
rod  from  its  case.  It  was  a  beautiful  rod,  and 
looked  strong  enough  to  handle  any  fish  that 
was  likely  to  be  encountered  in  that  country  ; 
but  the  second  joint  was  broken  close  to  the 
ferrule.  I  looked  pityingly  at  'him,  little 
dreaming  that  I  was  destined  to  go  home  in  the 
same  crippled  condition. 

"  I  don't  believe  that  any  bass  that  ever 
wiggled  a  fin  could  break  that  rod,"  said 
Arthur,  dolefully.  ' '  Matt  or  some  of  his 
vagabond  band  must  have  caught  the  hook 
into  a  log  or  the  stem  of  a  lily-pad.  Well,  it 
isn'  t  as  bad  as  it  might  be,  but  I  hate  to  think 
that  that  squatter  has  made  some  money  out 
of  me." 

While  the  boys  were  waiting  for  the  guide 
who  had  promised  to  come  down  and  look  at 
the  skiff,  they  talked  of  their  interview  with 
the  landlord  of  the  Sportsman's  Home,  and  in 
that  way  I  came  to  know  just  what  happened 
when  they  went  up  to  see  the  rods  he  had  pur- 
chased of  Jake  Coyle.  Of  course  they  recog- 
nized them  at  once,  and  promptly  handed  over 


AN   OLD   ACQUAINTANCE.  377 

the  money  that  Mr.  Hanson  had  paid  for  their 
property,  but  said  nothing  about  paying  for 
the  rods  that  belonged  to  Tom  Bigden  and  his 
cousins. 

"  Hadn't  you  better  take  them  all  ? "  asked 
the  landlord.  "You  say  that  the  boys  from 
whom  these  rods  were  stolen  live  in  Mount 
Airy,  and  perhaps  they  would  be  grateful  to 
you  for  returning  them." 

"  I  think  we'd  better  not  have  any  thing  to 
do  with  them,"  said  Arthur.  "  But  we'll  for- 
ward them  a  dispatch  and  let  them  send  or 
come  after  the  rods.  They've  nothing  else 
to  do." 

There  was  telegraphic  communication  between 
Indian  Lake  and  Mount  Airy,  by  the  way  of 
New  London,  and  Arthur  wrote  and  sent  off 
the  dispatch  before  he  left  the  hotel.  If  he 
and  his  chums  had  been  able  to  look  far  enough 
into  the  future  to  see  every  thing  that  was  to 
result  from  this  simple  act,  they  would  have 
been  greatly  astonished.  I  know  I  was  when  I 
heard  the  full  particulars. 

In  a  few  minutes  the  expected  guide  came 
down  to  the  beach  and  gave  the  skiff  a  careful 


378  JOE    WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

examination.  After  he  had  stripped  off  the 
canvas  and  bark,  so  that  he  could  see  the  full 
extent  of  her  injuries,  he  remarked  that  Matt's 
scow  must  have  hit  her  a  middling  heavy  crack. 

"  I  should  say  she  did,"  replied  Joe,  with  a 
laugh.  ' '  When  three  strong  fellows  do  their 
level  best  with  paddles,  they  can  make  a  small 
boat  get  through  the  water  with  considerable 
speed.  They  hit  us  hard  enough  to  knock 
Arthur  overboard.  Who  are  those  men,  and 
where  are  they  going  in  such  haste  ?  "  he  con- 
tinued, directing  the  guide's  attention  to  a 
company  of  guests  and  boatmen  who  were 
walking  rapidly  toward  the  beach. 

' '  Two  of  them  are  the  gentlemen  whose 
camps  were  robbed  the  other  day,"  replied  the 
guide,  after  he  had  taken  a  glance  at  the  party. 
"They've  got  some  friends  to  help  them,  and 
are  going  out  to  see  if  they  can  track  down 
them  varmints  who  have  been  kicking  up  so 
much  fuss  about  here  of  late.  There  comes 
Swan.  He's  going  with  them,  but  they  might 
as  well  stay  at  home,  the  whole  of  them.  That 
Matt  Coyle  can  cover  up  his  trail  like  an  Injun. 
It  took  every  guide  in  the  country  to  hunt  him 


AN   OLD   ACQUAINTANCE.  379 

down  the  last  time  we  drove  him  away  from 
here." 

"  You  missed  it  by  not  putting  him  in  jail," 
said  Roy. 

"  That's  just  what  we  wanted  to  do," 
answered  the  guide.  "But  when  we  come  to 
talk  to  some  of  the  guests  about  it — there  was 
lawyers  among  them,  you  know — we  found  that 
we  didn't  have  any  evidence  that  would  convict 
him.  We  suspected  him,  but  we  could  not 
prove  any  thing." 

"You'll  not  be  troubled  in  that  way  this 
time,"  Arthur  remarked.  "You'll  have  the 
guns  for  evidence." 

" Don't  fool  yourself,"  said  the  guide.  "Do 
you  suppose  that  they  will  find  that  three 
hundred  dollar  scatter-gun  and  that  fifty  dollar 
rifle  when  they  find  Matt  Coyle — that  is,  if 
they  do  find  him  ?  Not  by  a  great  sight.  Them 
things  is  safe  hid  in  the  woods.  Matt' 11  sw'ar 
that  he  didn't  hook  'em,  and  there  ain't  a 
living  man  that  can  sw'ar  that  he  did.  The 
only  thing  they  can  do  is  to  burn  him  out  of 
house  and  home,  like  we  did  last  time,  and  force 
him  to  go  off  somewhere  and  steal  a  new  outfit." 


380  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

' '  What' s  the  reason  we  can' t  go  with  them  ? ' ' 
said  Joe,  suddenly. 

"I  reckon  you  can.  You  know  more  about 
the  woods  than  some  of  that  party  do,  and  you 
might  be  of  some  use  to  them." 

"  Well,  look  here,  Mr.  Morris:  Will  you  fix 
up  our  boat  in  good  shape,  give  her  a  coat  or 
two  of  paint  and  take  care  of  the  things  that 
we  shall  be  obliged  to  leave  behind  us  ? " 

"I  will,  sartain,"  answered  the  guide,  readily. 

In  an  instant  both  the  lockers  were  opened, 
and  Joe  Wayring,  snatching  up  a  camp  basket, 
started  post-haste  for  the  hotel  to  hire  a  skiff 
and  purchase  a  small  supply  of  provisions  for 
the  trip,  leaving  Roy  and  Arthur  to  select  the 
outfit.  The  tent  and  the  most  of  their  heavy 
cooking-utensils  were  to  be  left  behind.  They 
were  very  useful  articles,  of  course,  but  they 
were  not  absolutely  necessary  to  their  existence, 
or  even  to  their  comfort.  Besides,  the  skiff 
that  would  be  provided  for  them  would  not 
carry  as  much  "duffle"  as  the  roomy  boat 
they  were  going  to  leave  in  the  guide's  keep- 
ing. Their  bows  and  arrows,  blankets,  the 
knapsacks  that  contained  their  extra  clothing, 


AN   OLD   ACQUAINTANCE.  381 

and  the  frying  pan  must  go,  of  course  ;  but 
every  thing  else  was  left  behind. 

While  they  were  awaiting  Joe's  return,  Mr. 
Swan  and  his  party  came  up,  got  into  their 
boats  and  pushed  away  from  the  beach.  Mr. 
Morris  pointed  out  two  stalwart  gentlemen  in 
shooting  costume,  who,  he  said,  were  the 
owners  of  the  stolen  guns.  They  seemed  to  be 
in  very  bad  humor,  and  the  boys  did  not  won- 
der at  it. 

"  I  shouldn't  like  to  be  in  Matt's  place  if 
those  men  get  their  hands  on  him,"  said  Roy, 
in  a  low  tone. 

' '  Nor  I, ' '  answered  the  guide.  ' '  They  sw'  ar 
they'll  pound  him  before  he  goes  to  jail,  and 
they  look  to  me  like  fellers  that  will  keep 
their  word." 

u  Say,  boys,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Swan,  as  he 
backed  water  with  his  oars  and  brought  his 
boat  to  a  stand-still  at  the  stern  of  the  skiff, 
"  can't  you  stay  here  till  we  come  back  ?  We 
want  your  evidence." 

"We' 11  be  around,  you  may  depend  upon 
that,"  returned  Roy.  "  But  we're  not  going 
to  stay  here,  if  you  will  let  us  take  part  in 


382  JOE   WAYRIXG  AT  HOME. 

the  hunt.  Joe  has  gone  up  to  the  hotel  after 
a  boat." 

"  Oh  !  All  right,"  said  Mr.  Swan.  "  Them's 
two  of  the  lads  that  had  the  battle  in  the  dark 
that  I  was  telling  you  about,"  he  added, 
addressing  himself  to  the  owner  of  the  lost 
"  scatter-gun  ",  who  was  his  employer. 

"  Well,  I  must  say  that  they  are  plucky 
fellows,  and  that  they  deserve  better  luck," 
said  the  gentleman,  returning  the  military 
salute  which  the  boys  gave  him  from  sheer 
force  of  habit.  "  I  hope  their  skiff  can  be 
easily  repaired,  Mr.  Morris?" 

"  No  trouble  about  that,  sir,"  answered  the 
guide.  "  She'll  be  right  and  tight  before  sun- 
down— all  except  the  paint." 

After  telling  Roy  and  his  companion  that  if 
they  did  not  overtake  him  before,  they  would 
find  him  encamped  somewhere  on  the  bank  of 
the  creek  near  the  pond,  Mr.  Swan  applied 
himself  to  his  oars,  and  a  fleet  of  seven  boats, 
manned  by  fourteen  angry  and  determined 
guides  and  guests,  set  out  in  pursuit  of  Matt 
Coyle  and  his  thieving  crew.  Ten  minutes 
later  Joe  Wayring  returned,  accompanied  by 


AN   OLD   ACQUAINTANCE.  383 

a  guide  and  a  small  party  of  ladies  and  gentle- 
men. The  former  was  to  show  him  what  boat 
he  could  take,  and  the  latter  were  listening 
with  much  interest  to  Joe's  graphic  account 
of  his  adventures  with  the  squatter.  Joe  was 
surprised  to  learn  that  Matt' sway  of  creeping 
up  through  the  bushes  and  robbing  unguarded 
camps,  had  frightened  the  women  and  children 
so  badly  that  they  refused  to  go  into  the 
woods  until  the  thief  had  been  captured  and 
safely  lodged  in  jail.  That  depended  upon 
the  evidence  Joe  could  give  to  put  him  there. 

"That's  all  mighty  fine,"  said  Mr.  Morris, 
after  listening  to  what  Joe  had  to  say  of  his 
conversation  with  the  stranger,  "but  they 
don't  give  a  thought  to  the. hardest  part  of  the 
business.  Matt  ain't  caught  yet,  and  there'll 
have  to  be  a  heap  of  hard  work  done  before  he 
is  shut  up  so't  he  can't  steal  no  more  scatter- 
guns  ;  you  see  if  there  ain't.  I'd  like  to  take 
a  hand  in  the  hunt  myself,  but  I've  got  to  go 
out  with  the  same  man  I  guided  for  last  year, 
and  he's  liable  to  come  along  any  day." 

Their  boat  having  been  pointed  out  to  them, 
Joe  and  his  companions  lost  no  time  in  putting 


384  JOE   WAYRINO   AT   HOME. 

their  effects  aboard  of  it.  Then  they  bade  Mr. 
Morris  good-by,  lifted  their  caps  to  the  party 
on  shore,  and  rowed  down  the  lake  and  up  the 
creek  in  pursuit  of  the  fleet.  They  overtook  Mr. 
Swan  and  his  party  just  before  they  landed  to  eat 
their  lunch,  traveled  in  company  with  them  dur- 
ing the  rest  of  the  day,  and  went  into  camp  with 
them  at  night.  I  had  abundant  opportunity 
to  compare  notes  with  the  three  recovered  bait- 
rods,  who  corroborated  the  story  that  was  told 
me  by  the  canvas  canoe,  and  which  I 
have  already  given  to  the  reader  in  my 
own  words.  The  squatter  was  fully  resolved, 
they  said,  that  if  he  couldn't  act  as  guide  in 
those  woods,  nobody  should  ;  and  the  worst  of 
it  was,  he  seemed  to  be  in  a  fair  way  to  accom- 
plish his  object.  The  sportsmen  who  patron- 
ized the  hotels  came  there  for  fun  and  recrea- 
tion ;  and  it  wasn't  likely  that  they  could  see 
much  of  it  if  their  wives  and  children  were  to 
be  prevented  from  accompanying  them  on  their 
fishing  excursions  through  fear  of  this  man, 
Matt  Coyle.  The  owners  of  the  Lefever  ham- 
merless  and  Winchester  rifle  didn't  see  much 
fun  in  having  their  fine  weapons  stolen,  and  if 


AN   OLD   ACQUAINTANCE.  385 

these  depredations  were  not  stopped,  and  that 
speedily,  it  would  not  be  long  before  the  guests 
would  be  looking  for  some  place  of  resort  where 
thieves  were  not  quite  so  plenty. 

"But  even  that  isn't  the  worst  of  it,"  con- 
tinued Joe's  bait-rod,  who  did  the  most  of  the 
talking.  "  Every  thing  seems  to  indicate  that 
the  squatter  is  going  to  have  a  bigger  following 
now  than  he  has  been  able  to  boast  of  in  the  past. 
He  isn't  the  only  worthless  scamp  there  is  in 
the  woods,  by  any  means.  You  know,  I  sup- 
pose, that  the  State  fish  commissioners  have 
established  a  hatchery  at  the  outlet  of  Deer 
Lake,  a  few  miles  from  here  ? " 

I  replied  that  I  had  not  heard  of  it. 

"  Well,  they  have,  and  the  superintendent 
wants  to  prohibit  fishing  there,  so  that  he  can 
get  a  supply  of  eggs  large  enough  to  stock  all 
these  waters,  which  will  soon  be  stripped  of 
trout  unless  there  are  some  put  in  to  take  the 
place  of  the  multitudes  that  are  caught  every 
year.  The  superintendent  sets  traps  in  the 
outlet  to  catch  the  fish  so  that  he  can  get  their 
eggs,  and  three  or  four  fellows  who  live  right 
there,  and  who  look  enough  like  Matt  Coyle  to 


386  JOE   WAYRING  AT  HOME. 

be  his  brothers,  go  to  the  outlet  every  night 
and  cut  the  nets.  The  superintendent  threat- 
ened to  have  them  arrested  if  they  didn't  quit 
it,  and  they  told  him  that  they  had  always 
fished  in  that  outlet,  and  if  he  wanted  the 
hatchery  buildings  to  stay  there,  he  hadn't  bet- 
ter try  to  stop  them.  I  heard  the  whole  con- 
versation. I  was  down  there  when  old  Dead 
Shot  was  broken." 

"  Who's  Dead  Shot?  "  I  inquired. 

"I  am,"  faintly  replied  Arthur  Hastings' s 
crippled  rod. 

"  Why,  that's  a  queer  name  for  you  to  bear," 
said  I.  "I  think  it  would  be  more  appropriate 
for  a  shot-gun  or  rifle." 

"  Perhaps  it  would  ;  but  Arthur  has  always 
called  me  that  since  I  caught  his  first  string  of 
yellow  pike  for  him,  and  it  is  the  name  I  go  by. 
I  never  let  a  fish  get  away  when  I  get  a  good 
grip  on  him — that  is,  when  I  have  some  one  to 
handle  me  who  knows  what  he  is  about.  But 
Jake  don' t  know  any  thing  about  a  rod,  for  he 
has  always  fished  with  a  pole  he  cut  in  the 
bushes.  On  the  day  the  superintendent  talked 
so  plainly  to  the  vagabonds  who  cut  his  nets. 


AN   OLD   ACQUAINTANCE.  387 

Jake  was  fishing  in  the  outlet,  and  Matt  was 
hiding  in  one  of  the  cabins.  A  little  fish — I 
should  not  think  he  weighed  more  than  a 
pound,  judging  by  the  bite  he  gave — took  the 
hook,  which  was  baited  with  worms,  and  Jake 
tried  to  yank  him  out  by  main  strength,  as  he 
had  always  been  in  the  habit  of  doing  ;  but  the 
line  caught  between  two  rocks,  and  as  Jake 
threw  back  his  head  and  surged  on  me  with  all 
the  muscle  he  had,  I  broke.  That's  all  there 
was  of  it." 

"And  do  you  think  that  Matt  Coyle  will 
strike  hands  with  those  fellows  at  the  out- 
let?" I  asked,  when  Dead  Shot  had  ended, 
his  story. 

"He  has  done  it  already,  and  our  friends 
here  have  undertaken  a  bigger  job  than  they 
bargained  for, ' '  answered  the  bait-rod.  ' '  Those 
vagabonds  are  all  tarred  with  the  same  stick. 
They  sympathize  with  Matt,  and  will  hide  him 
in  their  houses  and  help  him  in  every  way 
they  can." 

"  Haven't  we  got  force  enough  to  go  into  the 
houses  and  take  him  out  ? ' ' 

"  We've  got  the  force,  but  not  the  authority. 


388  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

There's  not  an  officer  or  a  search-warrant  in  onr 
party." 

Not  being  posted  in  law,  I  did  not  quite  un- 
derstand the  situation,  but  I  didn't  like  to  ask 
any  more  questions.  It  was  enough  for  me  to 
know  that  Matt  Coyle  seemed  to  have  the  best 
of  the  game.  Indeed,  he  always  seemed  to 
have  it. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

CONCLUSION. 

THE  boats  made  an  early  start  the  next 
morning,  and  reached  the  pond  at  nine 
o'clock.  Half  an  hour  later  they  had  crossed 
it,  and  were  moving  up  the  creek  where  I  per- 
formed my  first  exploit,  and  Joe  Wayring  so 
narrowly  escaped  capture  by  Matt  Coyle  and  his 
boys.  It  annoyed  me  to  think  that  the  squat- 
ter and  his  family  had  enjoyed  so  good  a  sup- 
per, and  that  I  had  unwittingly  provided  it  for 
them.  It  would  not  have  soothed  my  feelings 
much  if  some  one  had  told  me  that,  although 
that  was  the  first  meal  I  had  caught  for  them, 
it  would  not  be  the  last. 

"Now,  then,"  said  Mr.  Swan,  after  he  and 
his  party  had  listened  to  Joe's  description  of  the 
exciting  incidents  that  happened  in  the  creek 
on  the  evening  of  the  previous  day,  "  we  will 
divide  ourselves  into  two  fleets  and  take 


390  JOE   WAYRING   AT  HOME. 

opposite  sides  of  the  stream.  As  we  go  up, 
let  every  one  of  us  keep  a  bright  lookout  for  a 
sign.  Those  robbers  could  not  have  got  into 
their  scow  or  landed  from  it  without  leaving  a 
trail,  and  that  is  what  we  want  to  find." 

In  obedience  to  these  instructions  four  of  the 
boats  kept  to  one  side  of  the  creek,  the  remain- 
ing four  pulled  over  to  the  other  bank,  and  the 
hunt  began  in  earnest.  Every  inch  of  the  shore 
on  both  sides  was  closely  scrutinized,  but  up 
to  three  o1  clock  in  the  afternoon  nothing  sus- 
picious had  been  discovered.  Mr.  Swan  began 
to  believe  that  they  had  passed  the  trail  long 
ago  without  seeing  it,  and  said  as  much  to  his 
employer,  adding — 

"That  villain  is  sharper  than  two  or  three 
men  have  any  business  to  be.  He  and  his 
family,  the  old  woman  included,  can  go 
through  the  woods  without  leaving  trail  enough 
for  a  hound  to  follow.  They  never  forget  to 
be  as  careful  as  they  know  how,  for  they  have 
so  long  lived  in  constant  fear  of  arrest  that— 

The  guide  suddenly  paused,  and  looked 
earnestly  at  Joe  and  his  companions,  whose 
actions  seemed  to  indicate  that  they  had  found 


CONCLUSION.  391 

something  that  would  bear  looking  into. 
Their  boat  was  loitering  along  two  or  three- 
rods  behind  the  others,  Roy  and  Arthur  doing 
the  rowing,  while  Joe  was  stretched  out  flat  on 
the  knapsacks,  his  chin  resting  on  his  arms 
which  were  supported  by  the  gunwale,  and  his 
eyes  fastened  upon  the  bank.  All  at  once  he 
started  up  and  said,  in  a  low  tone : 

"  Cease  rowing.     Look  at  that." 

"  Look  at  what  ? "  demanded  Roy,  after  he 
and  Arthur  had  run  their  eyes  up  and  down 
the  bank  without  seeing  any  thing  that  was 
calculated  to  excite  astonishment.  "  At  those 
bushes  growing  in  the  water?  That's  nothing, 
for  we've  seen  bushes  growing  in  the  water 
ever  since  we  came  into  the  creek." 

"I  am  aware  of  it;  but  if  you  will  look 
closely  at  these  particular  bushes,  you  will  see 
that  the  bark  is  scraped  off  some  of  them,  and 
that  they  all  lean  away  from  the  creek  as  if 
some  heavy  body  had  been  dragged  over  them," 
answered  Joe.  "  Back  port  and  give  way  star- 
board. Let's  turn  in  here ;  and  if  we  don't 
find  something  or  other  on  the  opposite  side,  I 
shall  wonder." 


392  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

The  rowers  obeyed,  without  much  confidence 
as  to  the  result,  it  must  be  confessed,  and 
when  Mr.  Swan  and  his  party  arrived,  having 
all  turned  back  to  see  what  it  was  that  had 
attracted  the  attention  of  the  boys,  neither  they 
nor  their  boat  were  in  sight.  There  was  some- 
thing on  the  bank,  however,  that  instantly 
caught  the  sharp  eye  of  one  of  the  guides,  who 
at  once  proceeded  to  take  himself  to  task  in  a 
way  that  would  have  excited  his  ire  if  any  one 
else  had  done  it. 

"  Hit  me  over  the  head  with  a  paddle,  some- 
body," said  he.  "I'm  going  to  throw  up  my 
position  when  I  get  back  to  the  lake,  and  quit 
guiding.  I  ain't  no  good  any  more.  I  come 
along  here  not  ten  minutes  ago,  and  didn't  see 
what  them  boys  saw  at  once.  Look  at  them 
bushes,  and  then  look  at  that,"  he  added,  pull 
ing  his  boat  closer  to  the  bank,  and  placing 
the  blade  of  his  oar  in  a  little  depression  in  the 
edge  of  the  water.  "  Matt  Coyle  shoved  that 
scow  of  his'n  over  them  bushes,  and  that's 
what  barked  them  and  made  them  bend  over 
that  way.  He  suspicioned  that  some  of  us 
would  see  it,  so  he  come  back  and  stood  right 


CONCLUSION.  393 

there  where  my  oar  is,  and  tried  to  straighten 
the  bushes  up  with  a  pole  or  something." 

"That's  so,"  said  Mr.  Swan,  to  his  employer, 
"Didn't  I  tell  you  that  he  was  a  sharp  one? 
The  tricks  that  that  fellow  don't  know  ain't 
worth  knowing." 

Just  then  a  twig  snapped  on  the  bank  and 
Joe  Wayring  came  into  view.  "  Don't  talk  so 
loud,"  he  whispered,  as  he  held  up  his  finger 
warningly.  "Matt's  scow  isn't  twenty  feet 
from  here,  and  that's  all  the  proof  I  want  that 
his  camp  is  close  at  land." 

Instantly  seven  pairs  of  oars  were  dropped 
into  the  water,  and  as  many  boats  were  forced 
through  the  bushes  and  into  the  little  bay  on 
the  other  side.  There  lay  the  piratical  craft 
which  had  done  her  best  to  send  the  skiff  to 
the  bottom  of  the  pond,  but  nothing  was  to  be 
seen  or  heard  of  her  crew. 

"Keep  still,  every  body,"  cautioned  Mr. 
Swan,  in  the  lowest  possible  whisper.  "They're 
out  there  in  the  woods,  but  remember  that  they 
ain'  t  caught  yet,  and  that  they  won't  be  if  their 
ears  tell  them  that  we're  coming." 

Joe  afterward  said  that  the  trail  that  led 


394  JOE   WAYRING  AT   HOME. 

from  the  scow  into  the  bushes  was  so  plain  that 
a  blind  man  could  have  followed  it ;  so  it 
seemed  that,  for  once,  Matt  had  forgotten  to 
be  careful.  No  doubt  he  thought  that  the  bay 
in  which  his  scow  found  a  resting-place,  was  so 
effectually  hidden  by  the  bushes  in  front  of  it, 
that  it  would  never  be  discovered  by  a  pursuing 
party.  We  have  seen  that  he  had  good  reason 
for  this  belief.  If  Joe  and  his  chums  had 
decided  to  remain  at  the  lake  and  enjoy  them- 
selves there  while  their  skiff  was  being  repaired, 
instead  of  joining  their  forces  with  Mr.  Swan's 
hunting  party,  it  is  probable  that  the  squatter's 
retreat  never  would  have  been  discovered  ;  and 
neither  would  the  pursuers — well,  I'll  wait 
until  I  get  to  that  before  I  tell  about  it. 

Mr.  Swan,  who  was  the  acknowledged  leader 
of  the  party,  at  once  shouldered  his  rifle  and 
began  following  up  the  trail,  the  others  falling 
in  in  single  file  behind  him.  They  moved  so 
silently  that  I  could  not  hear  a  leaf  rustle  ;  and 
I  told  myself  that  the  surprise  and  capture  of 
the  squatter  and  his  whole  shiftless  tribe  was  a 
foregone  conclusion.  I  afterward  learned  that 
Mr.  Swan  and  the  guides  who  were  with  him 


CONCLUSION.  395 

thought  so  too.  Before  they  had  gone  fifty 
yards,  the  former  suddenly  stopped  and  whis- 
pered to  the  man  next  behind  him— 

"  We  are  close  upon  them.     I  smell  smoke." 

"And  I  smell  coffee,"  replied  the  man  to 
whom  the  words  were  addressed,  and  who 
sniffed  the  air  as  if  he  were  trying  to  locate  the 
camp  by  the  aid  of  his  nose  instead  of  his  eyes, 
"and  bacon." 

Shaking  his  hand  warningly  at  the  men 
behind  him,  the  guide  moved  forward  again 
with  long,  noiseless  strides.  Presently  he  dis- 
covered a  thin  blue  cloud  of  smoke  rising  above 
the  bushes  close  in  front  of  him.  Hs  looked  at 
it  a  moment,  and  then  dashed  ahead  at  the  top 
of  his  speed,  his  eager  companions  folio  wing  at 
his  heels. 

A  few  hasty  steps  brought  them  to  the  little 
cleared  spot  in  a  thicket  of  evergreens  in  which 
Matt  Coyle  had  made  his  camp.  On  one  side 
of  it  was  a  lean-to  with  a  roof  of  boughs,  and 
on  the  other  was  the  fire,  with  a  battered 
coffee  pot  simmering  and  sputtering  beside  it. 
Scattered  about  over  the  ground  were  several 
slices  of  half -fried  bacon,  which  had  been  hur- 


396  JOE    WAYRING    AT   HOME. 

riedly  dumped  from  the  pan.  A  few  broken 
plates  and  dishes  that  stood  on  a  log  close  at 
hand,  bore  silent  testimony  to  the  fact  that  the 
squatter's  wife  was  just  getting  ready  to  lay 
the  table,  when  news  was  brought  to  the  camp 
that  Mr.  Swan  and  his  party  were  coming. 
Under  the  lean-to  were  some  worthless  articles 
in  the  way  of  wearing  apparel  and  bed-clothes, 
but  every  thing  of  value  had  disappeared. 
There  was  nothing  like  a  hammerless  shot  gun 
or  a  Winchester  rifle  to  be  found. 

' '  The  nest  is  warm,  but  where  are  the  birds  ? ' ' 
exclaimed  Mr.  Swan's  employer,  who  had 
jumped  into  the  clearing  with  his  coat  off  and 
his  fists  doubled  up,  all  ready  to  carry  out  his 
threat  of  pounding  Matt  Coyle  before  he  was 
sent  to  jail. 

"Didn't  I  say  that  they  were  sharp?" 
replied  the  guide.  ' '  The  birds  have  took 
wing." 

"  Then  take  to  your  heels  and  catch  them," 
exclaimed  his  employer.  "Can't  you  follow 
a  trail  ?  They  can't  have  been  gone  more  than 
five  minutes.  A  hundred  dollars  to  the  man 
that  will  capture  that  villain  for  me." 


CONCLUSION.  397 

"  And  I  will  add  a  hundred  to  it,"  cried  the 
owner  of  the  stolen  Winchester. 

The  guides  did  not  need  these  extra  induce- 
ments, for  they  had  more  at  stake  than  these 
two  strangers  who  spent  two  months  out  of 
every  twelve  in  the  woods,  and  the  rest  of  the 
year  in  the  city,  following  some  lucrative  busi- 
ness or  profession.  The  guides'  bread  and 
butter  depended  upon  their  exertions,  and  they 
were  no  whit  more  anxious  to  effect  Matt's 
capture  now,  than  they  were  before  the  two 
hundred  dollars  reward  had  been  offered  them. 
At  a  word  from  Mr.  Swan  they  separated  and 
began  circling  around  the  lean-to  to  find  the 
trail ;  but  this  did  not  take  up  two  minutes  of 
their  time.  They  found  five  trails  ;  and  a 
short  examination  of  them  showed  that  they 
all  led  away  in  different  directions. 

"That  trick  is  borrowed  from  the  plains 
Indians,"  said  Joe,  when  Mr.  Swan  announced 
this  fact  to  his  employer.  "Whenever  the 
hostiles  find  themselves  hard  pressed  by  the 
troops,  they  break  up  into  little  bands,  and 
start  off  toward  different  points  of  the  com- 
pass ;  but  before  they  separate,  they  take  care 


398  JOE   WAYRINQ   AT   HOME. 

to  have  it  understood  where  they  shall  come 
together  again." 

"That's  a  fact,"  assented  the  owner  of  the 
Winchester.  ' '  I  have  been  among  those  copper- 
colored  gentlemen,  when  I  had  nothing  to 
depend  on  except  the  speed  of  my  pony ;  but 
how  does  it  come  that  you  are  so  well  posted  ? 
Have  you  ever  hunted  on  the  plains?" 

"No,  sir  ;  bat  I  have  the  promise  that  I  shall 
some  day  enjoy  that  pleasure,"  answered  Joe. 
"My  uncle  told  me  about  it.  He's  been  there 
often.  Now  the  question  in  my  mind  is  :  Did 
Matt,  before  his  family  scattered  like  so  many 
quails,  appoint  a  place  of  meeting  ?  If  he  did, 
that's  where  we  ought  to  go." 

"Young  man,  you  are  a  sharp  one,"  said 
the  gentleman,  admiringly.  "What  do  you 
say,  Swan?" 

The  guide  appealed  to  could  not  say  any 
thing,  and  neither  could  the  others.  Unfortu- 
nately they  did  not  know  that  the  squatter  had 
made  friends  with  the  vagabonds  living  in  the 
vicinity  of  the  State  hatchery.  If  they  had 
known  it,  that  was  the  place  they  would  have 
started  for  without  loss  of  time,  but  they 


CONCLUSION.  399 

wouldn't  have  caught  him  if  they  had  gone 
there. 

"  There's  a  good  deal  of  hard  sense  in  Joe's 
head,"  said  Mr.  Swan,  after  a  short  pause. 
"Of  course,  Matt  and  his  family  will  come 
together  again  somewhere,  but  you  see  the 
trouble  is,  we  don't  know  what  point  they  are 
striking  for.'' 

"Can't  you  follow  the  trails  and  find  out?  " 

"Take  the  plainest  one  of  them  trails,  and 
I'll  bet  every  thing  I've  got  that  you  can't 
follow  it  a  hundred  yards,"  said  Mr.  Swan. 
"It  is  going  to  take  us  a  good  long  month  to 
hunt  them  down,  and  we'll  be  lucky  if  we  do 
it  in  that  time." 

"But  we  can't  wait  so  long,"  protested  one 
of  the  guests.  "We  must  return  to  the  city 
to-morrow.  Our  business  demands  our  atten- 
tion." 

The  guides  consulted  in  low  tones,  and  so 
did  their  employers.  Finally  one  of  the  latter 
wrote  something  on  a  card  and  handed  it  to 
Mr.  Swan,  saying : 

"If  we  have  done  all  we  can,  we  might  as 
well  go  back  to  the  hotel ;  but  before  we  start, 


400  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

we  make  you  this  offer :  We  will  give  a  hundred 
dollars  apiece  to  the  man  who  will  find  our 
weapons,  capture  the  thief  and  hold  him  so  that 
we  can  come  and  testify  against  him.  Or,  we 
will  give  fifty  dollars  apiece  for  the  guns  with- 
out the  thief,  and  the  same  amounts  for  the 
thief  without  the  guns.  Boys,  you  are  included 
in  that  offer." 

"Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Arthur.  "It  would 
afford  us  great  satisfaction  if  we  could  be  the 
means  of  restoring  your  property  to  you." 

"Before  we  leave  here  we'll  fix  things  so  that 
Matt  won't  find  much  to  comfort  him  if  he 
should  accidentally  circle  around  this  way 
after  we  are  gone,"  said  Mr.  Swan.  "  Pile  on 
every  thing,  boys." 

The  "boys"  understood  him  and  went  to 
work  with  a  will.  In  less  time  than  it  takes  to 
tell  it,  the  lean-to  was  pulled  down  and  thrown 
upon  the  fire,  the  bed-clothes  and  dishes  were 
piled  on  top,  the  bacon  was  driven  so  deeply 
into  the  ground  by  the  heels  of  heavy  boots 
that  a  hungry  hound  could  hardly  have  scented 
it — in  short,  every  thing  that  Matt  and  his 
family  had  left  behind  in  their  hurried  flight, 


CONCLUSION.  401 

was  utterly  destroyed.  His  scow  was  not  for- 
gotten. They  would  knock  it  out  of  all  sem- 
blance to  a  boat  when  they  went  back  to  the 
creek. 

Having  started  a  roaring  fire,  they  were 
obliged  to  stay  and  see  it  burn  itself  out,  for 
they  dared  not  leave  it  for  fear  that  it  might 
set  the  woods  aflame.  So  they  stood  around 
and  saw  it  blaze,  grumbling  the  while  over 
the  ill  luck  that  had  attended  their  efforts  to 
capture  the  cunning  squatter,  and  it  was  fully 
three-quarters  of  an  hour  before  Mr.  Swan 
thought  it  safe  to  return  to  the  boats.  This 
delay  gave  Matt  Coyle  plenty  of  time  in  which 
to  carry  out  a  very  neat  piece  of  villainy,  some 
of  which  I  saw,  and  all  of  which  I  heard. 

While  the  scenes  I  have  just  described  were 
being  enacted  in  the  clearing,  there  were  lively 
times  in  the  little  bay  of  which  I  have  spoken. 
You  know  we  were  left  in  company  with  Matt's 
scow,  the  boat  in  which  I  rode  being  drawn 
up  on  the  bank  on  one  side  of  him  and  Mr. 
Swan's  on  the  other  ;  and  no  sooner  had  the 
hunting  party  disappeared  in  the  bushes,  than 
we  began  reviling  him  the  best  we  knew  how. 


402  JOE   WAYRING  AT   HOME. 

The  only  reason  we  didn't  break  Mm  into 
kindling  wood  at  once,  was  because  we  couldn'  t. 
Our  will  was  good  enough. 

"Get  away  from  here,"  said  Wanderer. 
(That  was  the  name  of  Mr.  Swan's  boat.  He 
had  always  lived  and  worked  in  the  company 
of  gentlemen,  and  he  did  not  like  to  occupy 
close  quarters  with  so  disreputable  a  fellow  as 
the  scow.) 

"Get  away  from  here  yourself,"  was  the 
report.  "  I  was  here  first,  an'  I'm  going  to 
stay." 

"I'll  bet  you  will,"  said  Bushboy.  (That 
was  the  name  of  the  boat  Joe  and  his  chums 
hired  at  Indian  Lake.)  "  But  you  may  be 
sure  of  one  thing  :  You  will  stay  a  wreck." 

"That's  so,"  said  I.  "Joe  Wayring  will 
never  go  away  leaving  him  above  the  water. 
He'll  break  him  up  so  completely  that  his  thief 
of  a  master  won't  know  him  if  he  should  hap- 
pen along  this  way  again." 

"He  will  never  come  this  way  again  until  he 
is  on  his  road  to  jail,"  said  Wanderer.  "Mr. 
Swan  is  after  him,  and  he's  going  to  catch 
him,  too." 


CONCLUSION.  403 

"Wai,  Matt' 11  go  to  jail  knowin'  that  he's 
done  a  right  smart  of  damage  sence  he's  been 
layin'  around  loose  in  the  woods,  an'  if  I  am 
busted  up,  I  shall  have  the  same  comfortin' 
knowledge.  Fly-rod  has  seed  me  afore.  I 
captured  his  friend,  the  canvas  canoe — 

"  Where  is  he  now  ? "  I  interrupted. 

"  Out  there  in  the  bresh,  hid  away  so  snug 
that  nobody  won't  ever  find  him,"  was  the 
taunting  reply.  "  Them  guns  is  hid  out  there 
too,  but  not  in  the  same  place.  Matt  come 
purty  near  gettin'  you  as  well  as  the  canoe.  I 
heard  him  say  -that  he  almost  overtook  Joe 
while  he  was  a  runnin'  through  the  woods  with 
you  in  his  hand." 

' '  Yes  ;  and  Matt  would  have  got  me  over 
the  head  if  he  had  been  able  to  run  a  little 
faster." 

"  An'  Joe  would  have  got  a  hickory  over  the 
back,  I  tell  you,"  said  the  old  scow.  "How 
do  you  reckon  that  that  skiff  1  sent  to  the 
bottom  of  the  pond  feels  by  this  time  ?  " 

"You  didn't  send  him  to  the  bottom  of  the 
pond,"  said  I,  angrily.  "You  tried  hard 
enough,  but  you  didn't  make  it." 


404  JOE    WAYRTNG   AT   HOME. 

The  bait-rods  and  the  boats  took  up  the 
quarrel,  and  while  I  listened,  I  waited  impa- 
tiently for  the  return  of  the  hunting  party. 
Presently  I  heard  a  slight  rustling  in  the  thicket 
at  the  head  of  the  bay,  but  it  was  not  made  by 
the  persons  I  wanted  to  see.  It  was  Matt  Coyle 
that  stuck  his  ugly  face  out  of  the  bushes,  and 
his  bleared  and  blood-shot  eyes  that  traveled 
from  one  to  another  of  the  boats  that  lay  before 
him.  Then  he  turned  and  whispered  to  some  one 
behind  him  and  the  whole  family  came  and  stood 
upon  the  bank.  Their  sudden  appearance  made 
it  plain  to  all  of  us  that  the  squatter  and  his 
backers,  after  "scattering  like  so  many  quails," 
had  run  just  far  enough  in  different  directions 
to  bewilder  their  pursuers,  after  which  they 
"circled  around"  and  came  back  to  the  bay, 
intending  to  continue  their  flight  in  the  scow, 
which  would  leave  no  trail  that  could  be  fol- 
lowed. It  was  evident,  too,  that  there  had 
been  an  understanding  among  them  before  they 
separated  ;  otherwise  they  would  not  all  have 
been  there.  When  Matt's  gaze  rested  upon  the 
trim  little  boats  before  him,  he  said  in  a  low  but 
distinct  voice — 


CONCLUSION.  405 

"Whoop-ee!  Jest  look  at  all  them  nice 
skiffs,  will  you?  Ain't  we  in  luck  though? 
Never  mind  the  scow.  She's  done  good  work 
fur  us,  but  we'll  leave  her  behind  now  an' 
travel  like  other  white  folks  do.  Old  woman, 
you  go  round  to  all  them  boats  an'  pick  up  the 
grub  what's  into  'em;  Jakey,  you  an'  Sam 
ketch  up  the  poles  an'  cookin'  things  an'  every 
other  article  you  can  get  your  two  hands  onto. 
Dump  them  that'll  sink  into  the  water  an' 
chuck  them  that  won't  sink  as  fur  into  the 
bresh  as  you  can,  so't  they  won't  never  find 'em 
no  more.  While  you  are  doin'  that,  I'll  pick 
out  two  of  the  best  boats  fur  our  own." 

"  Say,  pap,  what's  the  reason  we  don't  carry 
off  the  things  in  place  of  thro  win'  on  'em  away 
or  sinkin'  'em?"  asked  Jake. 

"'Cause  we  can't  sell  'em,  an'  we  don't 
want  to  be  bothered  with  totin'  'em.  You  will 
save  time  if  you  do  jest  as  I  told  you.  We 
want  to  get  away  from  here  as  sudden  as  we 
can." 

"An'  what' 11  we  do  with  the  boats  that  we 
don't  take  with  us  ?  "  continued  Jake.  "  Will 
we  bust  'em  up?" 


406  JOE   WAY  RING   AT   HOME. 

"  Now,  jest  listen  at  the  fule  !  "  exclaimed 
Matt,  angrily.  "  The  noise  we  would  make  in 
bustin'  on  'em  up  would  bring  ole  Swan  back 
here  a  rtinnin'  ;  an'  I  don't  care  to  see  him 
with  all  them  other  fellers  at  his  back." 

The  vagabonds  worked  with  surprising  celer- 
ity, and  in  a  very  short  space  of  time  two  of 
the  finest  boats  in  the  lot  had  been  pushed  into 
the  water,  and  the  old  woman  was  piling  pro- 
visions into  them  by  the  armf  ul,  while  Jake 
and  Sam  busied  themselves  in  disposing  of  the 
other  things  as  their  sire  had  directed.  I  was 
sent  whirling  through  the  air  toward  the  oppo- 
site side  of  the  bay,  and  sad  to  relate,  was 
stopped  in  my  headlong  flight  by  a  tree,  against 
which  I  struck  with  a  sounding  whack.  There 
was  a  loud  snap,  and  I  fell  to  the  ground  help- 
less. My  second  joint  was  broken  close  to  the 
ferrule. 

I  lay  for  a  long  time  where  I  had  fallen — so 
long  that  I  began  to  wonder  if  I  was  to  remain 
there  until  my  ferrules  were  all  rusted  to  pieces 
and  I  became  like  the  mold  beneath  me.  I 
heard  Matt  and  his  family  leave  the  bay  in  the 
stolen  boats.  I  knew  when  they  forced  their 


CONCLUSION.  407 

way  through  the  bushes  into  the  creek,  and 
was  greatly  astonished  to  know  that  they 
turned  down  stream  toward  the  pond,  the  direc- 
tion in  which  their  pursuers  would  have  to 
go  when  they  returned  to  the  hotel.  But  Matt, 
the  sly  old  fox,  had  reasoned  with  himself  on 
this  point  before  he  adopted  these  extraordi- 
nary tactics.  It  lacked  only  about  half  an  hour 
of  night-fall,  and  Mr.  Swan  and  his  party  would 
soon  be  obliged  to  go  into  camp  ;  while  Matt 
knowing  every  crook  and  turn  in  the  creek, 
could  travel  as  well  in  the  dark  as  he  could  by 
daylight.  Before  the  sun  arose,  he  would  be 
miles  away  and  among  friends.  If  Mr.  Swan 
took  it  for  granted  that  he  had  gone  up  instead 
of  down  stream,  and  went  that  way  himself  in 
hope  of  being  able  to  overtake  him,  it  would 
give  the  squatter  just  so  much  more  time  in 
which  to  make  good  his  escape.  It  was  a  very 
neat  trick  on  Matt's  part. 

At  last,  after  a  long  interval  of  waiting,  I 
heard  voices  and  footsteps  on  the  other  side  of 
the  bay.  The  birds  having  flown  there  was  no 
need  of  caution,  and  some  of  the  returning 
party  were  talking  in  their  ordinary  tones, 


408  JOE   WAYRING  AT   HOME. 

while  others  were  shouting  back  at  their 
friends  in  the  rear.  My  acute  sense  of  hearing 
told  me  when  they  came  out  of  the  bushes,  and 
I  also  caught  the  exclamations  of  rage  and 
astonishment  that  fell  from  their  lips  when 
they  saw  what  had  been  done  in  the  bay  during 
their  brief  absence.  The  guides  were  almost 
beside  themselves  with  fury,  but  the  two  city 
sportsmen  laughed  uproariously. 

"We're  a  pretty  set,  I  must  say,"  I  heard 
one  of  them  exclaim.  "  If  I  hadn'  t  seen  it  with 
my  own  eyes,  I  never  should  have  believed  that 
any  man  living  could  play  a  trick  like  this 
upon  us.  Two  of  the  best  boats,  all  the  rods, 
provisions  and  dishes,  as  well  as  the  frying- 
pans  are  gone.  I  think  we  had  better  camp 
right  where  we  are,  start  for  home  at  the  first 
peep  of  day  and  never  show  our  faces  in  the 
woods  again." 

"Hallo!  What's  this  here?"  cried  one  of 
the  guides,  who,  for  want  of  something  better 
to  do,  had  stepped  into  the  skiff  and  shoved 
out  into  the  bay.  He  looked  down  into  the 
clear  waters  as  he  spoke,  then  seized  the 
boathook,  and  after  a  little  maneuvering 


CONCLUSION.  409 

with  it,   brought  one  of  the  frying-pans  to 
light. 

"And  what's  that  over  there  on  the  other 
side?"  exclaimed  the  familiar  voice  of  Mr. 
Swan. 

"  Why,  it's  my  unlucky  bait-rod,  as  sure  as 
the  world,"  said  Arthur  Hastings.  "But  he 
was  lucky  this  time,  wasn't  he  \  If  he  hadn't 
lodged  in  the  friendly  branches  of  that  ever- 
green, I  should  have  thought  that  Matt  Coyle 
had  carried  him  off  again." 

These  unexpected  discoveries  led  to  a  thorough 
examination  of  the  bay  and  of  the  bushes  sur- 
rounding it,  and  the  result  was  most  satisfac- 
tory. Before  dark  every  single  article  that  Jake 
and  Sam  had  thrown  away,  had  been  recovered. 
There  was  nothing  missing  now  except  the  boats 
and  the  provisions ;  but  the  loss  of  these  things 
did  not  put  the  party  to  any  great  incon- 
venience. There  was  an  abundance  of  game  in 
the  woods,  plenty  of  fish  to  be  had  for  the 
catching,  and  Matt's  scow  could  easily  carry 
the  four  men  who  had  lost  their  skiffs. 

But  little  more  remains  to  be  told.  Mr. 
Swan  and  his  party  camped  "right  where  they 


410  JOE   WAYRING   AT  HOME. 

were"  that  night,  made  an  early  start  the  next 
morning,  and  reached  Indian  Lake  on  the  after- 
noon of  the  following  day.  The  chums  found 
their  skiff  in  the  best  possible  condition,  and 
looking  very  nobby  in  her  new  dress,  by  which 
I  mean  a  fresh  coat  of  paint.  They  gave  it 
another  day  in  which  to  dry,  then  laid  in  a 
supply  of  provisions  and  fearlessly  turned 
their  faces  toward  the  wilderness  ;  while  the 
two  city  sportsmen,  thoroughly  disgusted  with 
their  failure,  and  by  the  trick  that  Matt  had 
so  neatly  played  upon  them,  set  out  for  home 
declaring  that  they  would  never  visit  Indian 
Lake  again  until  their  guns  had  been  restored 
to  them,  and  the  man  who  stole  them  was 
safely  lodged  in  jail. 

During  the  next  few  days  I  had  nothing  to 
do  but  make  myself  miserable  while  the  other 
rods  caught  the  fish  that  were  served  up  three 
times  a  day  until  the  boys  grew  tired  of  them. 
I  was  glad  when  Joe  said  that  it  was  time  to 
start  for  home,  but  sorry  for  the  disappoint- 
ment he  met  when  he  got  there.  Uncle  Joe, 
who  was  to  have  taken  them  upon  an  extended 
tour,  "either  East  or  West,  they  didn't  know 


CONCLUSION.  411 

which,"  had  suddenly  been  called  away  on 
important  business,  and  the  probabilities  were 
that  if  they  took  their  contemplated  trip  at  all 
it  would  not  be  until  near  the  end  of  the  vaca- 
tion ;  and  then  it  would  have  to  be  a  very  short 
one.  But  Joe  didn't  get  sulky,  as  some  boys 
would  have  done  under  like  circumstances. 
He  wrote  to  his  uncle,  found  out  when  he  was 
coming  home,  and  suggested  an  immediate 
return  to  Indian  Lake.  Arthur  and  Roy  were 
delighted  with  the  proposal,  and  I  was  at  once 
given  into  the  hands  of  a  skilled  mechanic,  who 
in  two  days'  time  mended  my  broken  joint  so 
neatly  that  no  one  could  tell,  even  with  the 
closest  scrutiny,  that  there  had  ever  been  any 
thing  the  matter  with  it.  Joe  came  after  me 
on  the  afternoon  of  the  second  day,  and  when 
he  carried  me  to  his  room  and  stood  me  in  the 
corner  where  I  was  to  stay  until  something 
that  he  called  "ferrule  cement"  had  had  time 
to  harden,  whom  should  I  see  but  my  old  friend, 
the  canvas  canoe,  occupying  his  usual  place  in 
the  recess,  and  looking  none  the  worse  for  his 
forced  sojourn  among  the  Indian  Lake  vaga- 
bonds. 


412  JOE   WAYRING   AT   HOME. 

"Well,  I  swan  to  man!"  I  exclaimed, 
unconsciously  making  use  of  an  expression 
which  I  had  heard  so  often  that  I  had 
become  quite  familiar  with  it.  "  How  in  the 
name  of  all  that's  wonderful  did  you  get 
back?" 

"Glad  to  see  you,  old  fellow,"  replied  the 
canoe,  in  his  jolly,  hearty  fashion,  "but  sorry 
to  hear  that  you  got  crippled.  Where  have 
you  been  ?" 

"  Just  got  back  from  the  doctor's  shop.  I 
am  all  right  again,  or  shall  be  in  a  few  days. 
When  and  how  did  you  return  ? " 

"  Came  yesterday.  Mr.  Swan  brought  me. 
Found  me  hidden  under  a  pile  of  brush,  not 
more  than  twenty  feet  from  the  place  where  he 
and  his  party  stood  when  they  burned  the 
squatter's  shanty.  I  saw  and  heard  every  thing 
that  happened  there." 

"  Well,  tell  us  all  about  it.  I  know  you  must 
have  had  some  adventures  during  your 
absence." 

' '  Indeed  I  have  ;  and  I  have  brought  a  heavy 
load  of  anxiety  back  with  me.  How  I  wish  I 
could  warn  Joe  and  his  chums !  The  threats  I 


CONCLUSION.  413 

heard  made  against  them  were  enough  to  make 
even  a  canvas  canoe  shudder." 

With  these  preliminary  remarks  the  canoe 
settled  himself  for  an  all-night's  task.  I  have 
not  space  enough  in  this  book  to  repeat  what 
he  said,  and  besides,  the  narrative  of  my 
exploits,  which  so  far  are  neither  many  nor 
brilliant  I  confess,  is  ended  for  the  time  being  ; 
so  I  will  gladly  step  aside  and  give  place  to  my 
accommodating  friend,  who  is  a  more  experi- 
enced story-teller  than  myself,  and  who,  in  the 
second  volume  of  this  series,  will  describe 
many  interesting  and  some  exciting  incidents 
which  happened  during  his  captivity.  His 
story  will  be  entitled :  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  A 
CANVAS  CANOE. 


THE  END. 


THE    JOHN    C.    WINSTON    CO.  S    POPULAR    JUVENILES. 


).  T.  TROWBRIDGE. 

NEITHER  as  a  writer  does  he  stand  apart  from  the  great 
currents  of  life  and  select  some  exceptional  phase  or  odd 
combination  of  circumstances.  He  stands  on  the  common 
level  and  appeals  to  the  universal  heart,  and  all  that  he  sug- 
gests or  achieves  is  on  the  plane  and  in  the  line  of  march  of 
the  great  body  of  humanity. 

The  Jack  Hazard  series  of  stories,  published  in  the  late 
Our  Young  Folks,  and  continued  in  the  first  volume  of  St. 
Nicholas,  under  the  title  of  "Fast  Friends,"  is  no  doubt 
destined  to  hold  a  high  place  in  this  class  of  literature.  The 
delight  of  the  boys  in  them  (and  of  their  seniors,  too)  is 
well  founded.  They  go  to  the  right  spot  every  time.  Trow- 
bridge  knows  the  heart  of  a  boy  like  a  book,  and  the  heart 
of  a  man,  too,  and  he  has  laid  them  both  open  in  these  books 
in  a  most  successful  manner.  Apart  from  the  qualities  that 
render  the  series  so  attractive  to  all  young  readers,  they 
have  great  value  on  account  of  their  portraitures  of  American 
country  life  and  character.  The  drawing  is  wonderfully 
accurate,  and  as  spirited  as  it  is  true.  The  constable,  Sel- 
lick,  is  an  original  character,  and  as  minor  figures  where  will 
we  find  anything  better  than  Miss  Wans«y,  and  Mr.  P.  Pir>. 
kin,  Esq.  The  picture  of  Mr.  Dink's  school,  too,  is  capital, 
and  where  else  in  fiction  is  there  a  better  nick-name  than 
that  the  boys  gave  to  poor  little  Stephen  Treadwell,  "Step 
Hen,"  as  he  himself  pronounced  his  name  in  an  unfortunate 
moment  when  he  saw  it  in  print  for  the  first  time  in  his  les- 
Bon  in  school. 

On  the  whole,  these  books  are  very  satisfactory,  and 
afford  the  critical  reader  the  rare  pleasure  of  the  works  that 
are  just  adequate,  that  easily  fulfill  themselves  and  accom- 
plish all  they  set  out  to  do. — Scribner's  Monthly, 


THE  JOHN   C.   WINSTON   CO/S   POPULAR   JUYENILES. 

JACK  HAZARD  SERIES. 

6vols.  BY  J.  T.  TROWBRIDGE.  $7.25 

Jack  Hazard  and  His  Fortunes.   Doing  His  Best. 

The  Young  Surveyor.  A  Chance  for  Himself. 

Fast  Friends.  Lawrence's  Adventures. 


International  Bibles 


Are  known  the  world  over  for  their  clear  print,  scholarly- 
Helps  and  absolutely  flexible  bindings.  They  comprise  every 
variety  of  readable  type  in  every  style  of  binding  and  in- 
clude Text  Bibles,  Reference  Bibles,  Teachers'  Bibles,  Tes- 
taments, Psalms,  Illustrated  Bibles ;  also  the  "Interna- 
tional" Red  Letter  Testaments  and  Red  Letter  Bibles  with 
the  prophetic  types  and  prophecies  relating  to  Christ  in  the 
Old  Testament  printed  in  red,  and  the  words  of  Christ  in 
the  New  Testament  printed  in  red ;  also  Christian  Workers' 
Testament  and  Christian  Workers'  Bible  in  which  all  sub- 
jects or  the  Theme  of  Salvation  are  indexed  and  marked 
in  red. 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers.    Catalog  of  Books  and  Bibles 
mailed  on  application  to  the  publishers. 


THE  JOHN  C  WINSTON  CO. 

Winston  Building 
PHILADELPHIA,  PA. 


